


Keith Kogane and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad October

by actress4Him



Series: In which I whump Keith [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Whump, Whumptober 2020, a little bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 63,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actress4Him/pseuds/actress4Him
Summary: Whumptober 2020, featuring my current favorite whumpee, Keith. Each chapter stands alone and varies in length, intensity, and type of whump. Some have open endings, others happy or at least hopeful. At least a couple are strictly emotional whump. I'm keeping the tags general so I don't filter out anyone based on triggers/squicks, so look at the warnings at the beginning of each chapter to decide which ones are for you!Day 10 - Blood Loss/Trail of BloodDay 11 - DefianceDay 12 - Broken TrustDay 13 - Chemical Pneumonia/Oxygen MaskDay 14 - BrandingDay 15 - Magical Healing/Science Gone WrongDay 16 - HallucinationsDay 17 - StitchesDay 18 - Panic Attacks/PhobiasDay 19 - Presumed DeadDay 20 - MedievalDay 21 - Chronic PainDay 22 - Drugged/WithdrawalsDay 23 - Exhaustion/Sleep DeprivationDay 24 - Forced Mutism/ Blindfolds/ Sensory DeprivationDay 25 - Disorientation/ Blurred Vision/ Ringing EarsDay 26 - WaterDay 27 - Extreme WeatherDay 28 - AccidentsDay 29 - Wound Reveal/ Ignoring an InjuryDay 30 - ExperimentDay 31 - Reluctant Bedrest/ Found Family
Relationships: Hunk & Keith (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Voltron Paladins, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: In which I whump Keith [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970656
Comments: 617
Kudos: 485
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Hanging/Waking Up Restrained

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time ever doing Whumptober, and I'm having so much fun! Because of the time limit (and my own limited time to write at this time in life), there are quite a few of these that have open/ambiguous endings, which is not normally my thing. I like comfort with my hurt. That's part of the reason why I don't necessarily consider this my best writing, that and the fact that I didn't have the time to linger on details that I normally would have. BUT, the important part is that I've had fun writing, and I hope you'll enjoy reading. Make sure you check the warnings before reading each day, though, because there is definitely potentially triggering content involved. And if you ever find anything that I missed tagging, please don't hesitate to let me know!
> 
> Okay, onto Day 1! Special thanks to trope-appreciation-tuesdays on Tumblr for this one, since I combed through tags looking for inspiration. This first day is the shortest of all of them...I kinda originally intended to keep them all this length, but they kinda got a mind of their own...

**Day 1 - Hanging/Waking Up Restrained**

**Warnings:** Restraints, non-consensual drug use mention, mild blood, respiratory distress, open/ambiguous ending

The pain was what woke him, and the pain was what immediately made him wish he was still unconscious.

Keith groaned, the sound rattling inside his aching head. It felt like a balloon had taken up residence inside his skull and had been pumped so full of air that it was pressing outwards, nearing explosion. His tongue weighed heavy in his mouth. _Drugged_ , his half-awake mind supplied. _Or maybe just knocked out really hard._ Either way sucked. The fact that it meant he had been captured hadn’t quite registered yet.

It became a bit more clear once he attempted to move said heavy tongue, almost gagging when it caught against coarse, saliva-soaked fabric. That was when he finally forced himself to open his eyes, wincing at the dim purple lights that seemed abnormally blinding.

_Purple lights._ Purple lights were not good. Purple lights meant he was on a Galra ship, not...where was he supposed to be, again? The events before waking were a blur, and trying to decipher them made him nauseous. Keith drew in a breath through his nose to quell it, noting that his lungs protested expanding. Was that because of an injury, or...?

No. If the situation had been at all humorous, he would have laughed at himself for taking so long to notice the most obvious part of his predicament - the chains that kept him suspended from the ceiling, the tips of his bare toes barely brushing the floor. Lifting his chin from his chest was a chore that he barely had the strength for, but he managed to let his head fall back and stared up at his arms. No wonder they were numb.

His wrists hadn’t paid him that favor, though. The metal shackles sliced into them with a sharp pain that honestly could have been what woke him to start with. Keith twisted slightly in an attempt to adjust his position, but immediately regretted it as pain shot up to his elbow and a thin rivulet of blood trailed along in its wake. He hissed, then promptly choked on the pooling saliva caused by the gag. The next couple of minutes were spent coughing and struggling to catch his breath, each inhale wheezing and stuttering in his throat while his lungs begged for mercy.

When the fit finally subsided, Keith let out a whimper that he was glad no one was around to hear. As much as he dreaded what the Galra might have in store for him, he kinda hoped they would show up soon and get it over with. Suffocating was not high on his list of ideal ways to die.

  
  



	2. "Pick Who Dies"/Collars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This day is one of the darker ones, and coincidentally (or not), one of my favorites. Make sure to check the warnings before reading!

**Day 2 - "Pick Who Dies"/Collars**

**Warnings:** Implied/referenced torture, death mention, broken bones, mild gore (I think it applies?), restraints, blood, ambiguous/open ending

The stamping of boots outside the cell door only barely roused Keith from the dissociative stupor he had fallen into. He knew what it meant. No one ever came in this direction unless they were coming for him, coming to ask more questions and inflict more pain. He kept thinking that maybe one of these days they'd give up, realize their tactics weren't working and maybe just go ahead and let him die. Stars knew he had been close plenty of times already. If it weren't for the quiznaking druids and their healing spells, he'd be dead many times over.

How long had it been, anyway? How long since that ill-fated mission when he had sacrificed himself for his team, stayed behind to fight off the hoards of sentries while they made their escape? Felt like years. It was impossible to say for sure, though. He really didn't even know how long it had been since the ship had rocked and the alarms had blared and he had hoped, for one heart-stopping, stupid moment, that his team had come for him. That he was being rescued from this nightmare. It couldn't have been more than a day ago. Maybe only a few vargas. But then the alarms had stopped, the ship had resumed its peaceful orbit, and nothing else had happened. And Keith had slipped even deeper into despair.

Now they were here again to continue his torture. He didn't even bother to turn toward the door, instead staying in his slumped position up against the wall. A couple of beeps, a swish, and a few more heavy footsteps later, claws were piercing his scalp as his hair was used as a handle once again.

"Hello, scum. Did you miss me?" the huge Galra snarled from above him, spewing saliva all over Keith's face. He didn't even have the energy to flinch.

The Galra released his hair, allowing his head to loll back against the wall, but seized him by the left arm instead. Keith let out a high keen. The arm had been rendered useless several torture sessions ago, but was still one of his captor's favorite things to toy with.

"I suppose you heard all the commotion earlier. Hope you didn't get too excited. I mean, your little friends did try to rescue you..."

Keith sucked in a sharp breath that twinged in his broken ribs. It had been Voltron after all. But...where were they, then? Had they...failed? The thought was almost unbelievable. Voltron didn't fail. Not completely, at least. They had setbacks, sure, like the one where he had been captured, but they always accomplished their goals one way or the other. And if they had actually failed, then what did that mean? Keith's mind suddenly filled with images of his teammates injured and in pain and his breaths came quicker.

Sneering, the Galra dug his claws even further into the already shredded arm. "It's like I told you before...you're not going anywhere. I'm going to break you, and then you will be allowed to die. There will be no rescue, no escape." He paused, and mercifully, let up a bit on the arm. "Due to this morning's...interruption, however, I have a surprise for you." Turning, he beckoned toward the still-open door, then rose and stepped aside as if to get the best view of the scene.

Keith couldn't help the fear that caused his heart to pound. He was to be punished for his team's attempt, he knew it. The question was only how. What actually came through the door to his cell was much worse than any torture device he could have imagined, though. Even with his right eye swollen completely shut, there was no mistaking the faces of Pidge, Lance, Hunk, and Allura, all with their arms pinned behind their backs, being herded into the room like sheep by four sentries.

"No!" His voice was little more than a croak. A burst of terror-induced adrenaline had him lunging forward, toward his friends, but he was brought to an abrupt, bruising halt by the chains attached to the thick metal collar around his throat. Fresh, warm blood oozed from the wound in his abdomen at the movement.

"No, no no no no..." They weren't supposed to be here. They were supposed to be safe. The whole point of him being here, of enduring the torture, was so that they would be safe, but there they were, right in front of him, very much not safe, and the despair that had become his constant companion twisted into agony. _Why?_ he wanted to ask. _Why did you come after me? You should have just left me. You should have stayed safe._ But his voice failed him, and they were all four too busy exclaiming over him and cursing in Spanish - at least for Lance's part - to listen, anyway.

The Galra was enjoying this far too much. "Hm, here I thought you'd all be happy to see each other again. Well, if we're not gonna have a happy reunion, then we might as well get right down to business." At the smallest motion, the sentries came to life, forcing their captives roughly down onto their knees. Sickening dread crept up Keith's throat.

"Your team has failed you yet again, Black Paladin." He spat the title out like it tasted vile in his mouth. "First they allowed you to be captured, and now they have failed to save you."

Lance, of course, opened his mouth and tried to protest, and was rewarded with a cuff over the head from the sentry that left him dazed. Keith's stomach lurched.

"So really," the Galra continued as if nothing had happened, "you should have no qualms about what I'm going to ask of you."

"Don't touch them," Keith finally managed to whisper. "Please. Please, just...just leave them out of this."

"It's too late for that," his captor growled. "You should have given me what I asked for from the start. Now..." The unmistakable whine of a blaster heating up filled the space, tearing into Keith's gut as much as the knife had.

The Galra leveled the blaster at Pidge's forehead. "Now you'll answer my questions, or you'll pick who dies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment yelling at me about the ending. Or the beginning. Or the middle. I’m not picky!


	3. Held at Gunpoint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith’s terrible adventures continue. This time featuring Lance saving the day, and the first happy ending! I got more inspiration from @trope-appreciation-tuesdays for this one, too. Read the warnings, and let me know if I missed anything.

**Day 3 - Held at Gunpoint**

**Warnings:** um...guns? And gunshot wounds. I think that's it.

The battle was over. Keith found himself stumbling forward after the very last swing of his sword, just barely throwing out a hand in time to catch himself on the wall of the corridor. Raising his head, he saw his teammates all looking just as exhausted as he felt, standing amongst the carnage of both metal and flesh with heaving breaths and drooping shoulders.

Shiro gave a tired smile as their gazes caught. “Good work, guys.” Straightening slightly and powering down his arm, he turned to include the others before looking back at Keith. “That was a tough one, but we -“ His eyes widened suddenly. “Keith!”

There was no time to figure out what he was alarmed about before a thick, armored arm was locked around Keith’s neck. His reaction was immediate, no matter his exhaustion, swinging his bayard back to catch the assailant in the calf. The Galra soldier was ready, though. Without ever losing his grip on Keith, he jerked his leg out of the way and seized Keith’s wrist, bending it farther and farther until he cried out and dropped the weapon. An instant later, the wrist had been transferred into the Galra’s other hand, held useless up by his ear, and the cold metal of a blaster was pressing into his temple.

Swallowing back the sudden fear that seized him, Keith made eye contact with Shiro again. His brother was all fierce exterior, glowing prosthetic held at the ready just like Pidge and Hunk had their bayards on either side of him. But Keith knew him well enough to see the terror in his eyes.

“Let him go.”

“Not happening,” the soldier growled in Keith’s ear, his breath hot and rank and very close. He had to have been crouching down to achieve that kind of proximity, obviously using Keith as a shield. “You three are going to put down your weapons, or your red boy here is a goner.”

“Shiro -“

“Shut up.” The blaster dug hard into his skull, and he grimaced. 

“It’s okay, Keith.” Shiro’s voice was as level and soothing as always, but he was wrong, it wasn’t okay. Whatever this guy wanted, it was gonna be bad, and Keith was not at all okay with being the damsel in distress in this situation. He needed to get himself out of this, take care of himself just like he always had. 

“Alright, you want us to put down our weapons. Then what happens? We let you walk away? Somehow I doubt you’re gonna let us do the same.”

The soldier snorted, but before he had the chance to reply Keith sprang into action. He had been subtly sliding his feet farther apart while Shiro spoke, strengthening his stance, ready to execute a move he and Shiro had practiced a hundred times at the Garrison. First a quick strike to the gut with his free elbow, then he’d bend down to throw their weight forward and flip the Galra over his shoulder...

Except that once again, his assailant anticipated his next move. Barely fazed by the jab to his stomach, he removed the blaster from Keith’s temple for just long enough to reach down and shoot a hole straight through his knee. 

He vaguely heard his friends crying his name over the sound of his own scream. For a moment he dangled by his neck, scarcely breathing while his brain blacked out everything but the shattered remains of his kneecap that were now embedded in skin and muscle, before enough sense returned for him to realize he needed to get his good leg back underneath him. Conversation was continuing to happen around him, but it took effort to hear past the white hot pain. He blinked back involuntary tears. Shiro had both of his hands out in front of him in a placating manner, still trying to talk their way out of this mess, and the Galra behind him was still shooting back angry responses.

Something else was happening, though, something that he might not have noticed if he had been actually listening to the words spoken. Pidge’s lips were moving, just barely, but her voice wasn’t audible. The comms, then. She was talking to someone over comms that Keith wasn’t currently linked into. Just after she spoke, Shiro shifted barely an inch to the left, and that’s when it clicked. Lance. He had nearly forgotten in the heat of the moment, but Lance was hiding down the hall behind some crates, where he had been sniping during the battle. The thought nearly made him smirk in spite of the pain. Their Galra friend wasn’t as smart as he thought, forgetting to count the paladins.

However...if Lance had a shot, then why hadn’t he taken it? The answer was simple - he didn’t have a shot. Not without going through Keith. The soldier was still doing a good job of crouching behind him, making himself an impossible target. Keith took in the furrow of Hunk’s brow, the slight shake of Shiro’s head, the subtle shift back the other direction, and he knew that it had to be true. But if there was anyone in the universe that he trusted to take out the Galra without killing him, it was Lance. What was one more blaster wound, anyway?

He sucked in a breath. Stared directly at the tip of the sniper rifle that could just barely be made out above the crate. Then, as loudly as he could manage, declared, “Do it.”

The blaster dug into his temple again, but all he paid attention to was the tightening of Shiro’s jaw before he gave the echoing order. “Do it.”

Fire ripped through his left shoulder. His vision went white, but he could feel himself falling, unable to do anything to stop it. The fall twisted his knee, sending another shock of pain through his body, and he blacked out. The next thing he knew he was opening his eyes to his entire team hovering over him, Lance the closest of all.

“I’m so sorry!” he blubbered as soon as he noticed Keith looking at him. His blue eyes were wide and filled with tears. “I’m so, so sorry, _lo siento, yo no queria_...I didn’t want to, I’m sorry, we couldn’t think of another way...!”

“Hey.” Keith lifted his good arm and grasped Lance’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I trusted you, and you did good.”

“Yeah. You did.” Shiro smiled as he dropped his hand onto Lance’s other shoulder. “Now let’s get you back to the Castle and into a pod, okay, _otouto_?”

Keith tried to smile, but it turned into a grimace as both his injuries throbbed. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that reviews are the main source of fanfic authors' motivation and inspiration? It's up to you to keep us writing. :)


	4. Collapsed Building

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another hopeful ending today! Also featuring a bit of Pidge whump. As always, please check the tags and let me know if I missed any.

**Day 4 - Collapsed Building**

**Warnings:** claustrophobia, impaling, blood, internal bleeding, broken bones, overuse of the word quiznak

" _All the royals and diplomats are clear. What's everyone's status?"_

" _Just coming down the stairs,"_ Lance puffed. " _Hunk's with me. Be out in a tick."_

" _Keith? Pidge?"_

"On our way." Keith skirted around a table and shattered vase that had fallen when the ground started shaking, and kept running. "We're on the lowest level, but not sure..." He glimpsed a familiar room through an open door. "Wait. I think that was the dining hall we just passed."

"It was!" Pidge confirmed from a few feet ahead.

" _Okay. You guys need to hurry. The rebels could be back with more bombs any minute, and I'm not sure how much more the palace can stand. Allura and I are gonna get everyone underground; you all head to your Lions as soon as you're out."_

"Roger."

" _Headed that way now!"_ Hunk replied.

"Quiznak."

Keith nearly ran into Pidge, who had skidded to a halt in front of him and was messing with her gauntlet. "What is it?"

"The way we came in earlier is blocked. Looks like it took a direct hit." She pulled up a glowing schematic of the palace as Keith took in the piles of beams and stone in the hallway to the left. "We'll have to go this way. It's longer, but it's our only choice."

He let her lead the way once more, not only because she had the map but because he wanted her to set the pace. He could easily outrun her, he knew, but there was no way he was leaving her behind. They'd make it out. They had to. Maybe the rebels were done. Maybe there wouldn't be any more -

His thoughts were interrupted by another ear-splitting explosion and the floor rocking beneath them. Pidge stumbled, but Keith caught her by the arm and quickly righted her.

"Go, go!"

She picked up the pace, and Keith tried to ignore how wide and fearful her eyes had been. He didn't have time to worry about that, anyway. Shiro was yelling in his ear, wanting to know if they had made it out yet, and somewhere high above them ships were droning and another bomb was whistling. And getting louder. In fact, it was louder than any of the others he had heard so far, and for the first time, he heard the actual impact on the roof before the explosion.

His heart in his throat, he leapt forward without fully realizing what he was doing. "Pidge!"

Then there was pain.

And darkness.

The next thing that Keith was aware of was a far off voice calling his name, over and over again. Parting his superbly dry lips, he attempted to answer, but all that came out was a groan. Why did he feel so heavy? It was as if every single muscle in his body weighed three times as much as it should. He blinked open his eyes, but the darkness barely retreated. There was only a faint glow, like that of the insignias on their armor.

"Keith?" The voice came again, and this time he was fairly certain of its owner, though he was unsure of why he couldn't see her when she sounded so close.

"P-Pidge?"

"Oh, thank quiznak." Pidge drew in a shuddering breath, sounding close to tears. "I was so scared you weren't gonna wake up."

Had he been asleep? He ran his tongue over his lips, but it was just as dry as they were. "What...I don't..."

Pidge's voice softened. "The rebels, remember? They dropped one of their bombs right over us, and you..."

He had jumped on top of her. The memory hit at the same time as the pain, and Keith screamed.

"Keith! It's okay, it's okay! Ugh, I mean, I know it's not okay, but..." Pidge floundered for words. "Can you...can you tell me where it hurts?"

Everywhere. "M-my leg." That was the worst, at least.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure my leg's broken. Like, I think there's maybe like a rock or something sitting on top of it." She sounded so nonchalant about it, but that was Pidge, he supposed. Analyzing the situation and relaying the information was what she did best. "Do you think...is that kinda what yours feels like?"

"No." He attempted to flex his foot and had to clamp his teeth together to keep from screaming again. "It, uh...it feels more like it was stabbed."

"The fact that you know the difference between a broken bone and a stab wound just by pain is concerning to me," she deadpanned. "Okay, anything else?"

Keith tried to focus past the searing pain in his leg to take stock of the rest of his body. He still felt heavy, though he now knew that was probably because of the three stories worth of debris on top of him, and everything felt like one giant bruise. "Pretty sure some ribs are broken. Can't...really feel my arms..."

"I'm just glad you can feel your legs. I was afraid your back might be broken. Since it's not, I'm gonna try to scoot out from under you and see if I can get a look at your leg."

It took Keith a moment longer than it should have to process that statement. "Wh-...wait, are you...under me?"

The explosive reaction from Pidge was not what he was expecting. "Well, yeah, since you tackled me like a frickin' idiot! I swear, you and Lance and your stupid, frickin' self-sacrificing tendencies..."

If his normal social skills weren't bad enough, right now he hurt way too much to be able to come up with a proper response to that. "Uh...sorry? I guess? I just...wanted..."

"You just wanted to keep me from getting hurt, I know. I got it." Though her tone was still angry, he thought he heard it waver with another emotion.

"But...you still did. Get hurt." And he hated that fact more than he hated his own pain.

"It's not nearly as bad as it could have been." _Not nearly as bad as you,_ she didn't say, but he heard it anyway. She sighed. "Thanks, I guess. I mean, I don't like you sacrificing yourself for me, but...at least this way we're together, right?"

"Yeah. Being alone right now would -" his words caught in his throat as his leg gave a particularly intense throb -"would suck."

"Yeah." Silence fell for a moment, then he could hear her draw in a deep breath. "Okay. Gonna start wiggling out to the left now. Still not sure how you didn't know you were laying on top of me."

Once she started moving, Keith was able to free his left hand and reach out blindly until he found something to brace it on, leveraging himself up slightly to give her more space. The movement made that one particularly sore spot near his kidney flare up dramatically, and he swallowed back a gasp. That was...probably not good. No need to worry Pidge about it, though, when there was nothing she could do.

"I assumed...y-you were debris."

"Gee, thanks."

He managed a small smirk. "No offense to you. It's...probably the...armor."

By then, Pidge had managed to wriggle her way out far enough that he could actually see her face through her helmet. She gave him a tiny smile before twisting and craning her head back to look at his leg. "Quiznak. That's...quiznak."

"Yeah, kinda...kinda feels that way."

She dropped back down so that they were face to face. "So, bad news is, there's a reason you feel like you were stabbed. Best I can tell, there's like, an entire beam going through the middle of your thigh."

The mental image combined with the pain made his stomach roll, but he swallowed it back. "What's...what's the good news?"

"Uh...the good news?" The stumped look on Pidge's face made it clear that there really hadn't been any. "The good news is...Shiro made us wear our helmets, so neither one of us have major head injuries?"

Keith huffed, regretting it when his ribs protested. "Yeah. Point for Shiro, there." Before coming to the dinner and meeting tonight there had been a whole argument between him and Allura on whether the helmets were necessary for a diplomatic event. "I assume the...comms are out, though?"

Pidge nodded. "At least our end is, though I doubt they can hear us, either. I...went ahead and said where we were a couple of times while you were out, though. Just in case."

He wanted to say something to reassure her, despite not being too optimistic about their outlook, himself, but found himself suddenly unable to draw in a breath. Something gurgled in the back of his throat. It exploded outward with a violent cough that spattered on the inside of his face shield and left him whining pitifully and wanting to curl in on himself.

"Yikes, that couldn't have felt good on broken ribs." Her eyes widened. "Wait. Why are you coughing? Your helmet's sealed, there shouldn't be dust." Leaning in, she cupped the side of his helmet with her hand and let the light from her armor illuminate the pinkish liquid. "Please don't tell me that's blood. Quiznak, that's blood, isn't it? You're bleeding internally. That's not good. That's not good at all."

"Hey." Keith grimaced, already feeling more blood crawling up into his throat. "It's okay. Don't...don't freak out."

Pidge almost looked ready to throttle him. "How can I not freak out? We're trapped under a crap ton of debris and nobody knows where we are and you are coughing up blood, Keith! It was bad enough that you were losing blood from your leg, but now you're losing it somewhere inside, too!"

"Yeah, I know." He was starting to feel the effects of it, too. Losing every few words that she said, his vision occasionally blinking out altogether. He coughed again, unable to hold it back any longer. "It's...it's 'kay, though. Sh'ro...Sh'ro'll fin' me. Sh'ro...always fin's me. He's good...at that."

"Whoa. Keith. No, come on, buddy, you gotta stay awake. Look at me."

He pried his eyes open, unaware that he had even closed them. "'m 'wake."

"Okay, good." Pidge patted the side of his helmet. "You need to stay that way. Tell me...tell me something about yourself. Tell me about living in the shack, out in the desert."

Keith scrunched up his nose, wondering why she would want to hear about that. "The shack? The shack was...borin'. Was lonely. Nobody...nobody out there...'cept me. Me an' Blue." He huffed a laugh, and wondered why doing so hurt. "Thought I was...goin' crazy. Losin' my mind. She wouldn't...stop callin' me, though. Kept me goin'. Needed...needed somethin' to keep livin' for, so...might 's well be...a voice 'n my head." He coughed again. "Owww. That hurts."

"I know, bud." If he wasn't mistaken, which was a very real possibility considering the fuzziness of his head, those were tears reflecting in her eyes. He wanted to ask her why she was sad, but she was still talking. "I know it does. You just gotta keep hanging on for a little while longer, okay? Then Shiro will come and get us."

"'Kay. I like Sh'ro. He's a good...good guy." Keith let his eyes slip shut again. The darkness felt nice on his tired brain. It was almost as nice as Pidge. She was really nice.

"Nope, don't close your eyes." When he didn't respond right away, she grabbed his shoulder and shook it slightly. "Keith, come on." Her voice sounded choked.

Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes. "I'm tired," he whined. "Need to sleep."

"You can't sleep until we're back at the Castle. Then I promise you can sleep for a long time, okay?"

He sighed. It kinda seemed like something had been hurting pretty bad earlier, but now everything felt pleasantly numb. It was good for sleeping, but Pidge seemed really adamant about him staying awake. "I like th' Castle. Th' Castle's nice. 'S like...'s like home. Never...never really had a home...b'fore."

Pidge nodded, her lower lip trembling. "Yeah. It is like home. I'm glad...I'm glad you found a home, Keith. You just stay awake and keep talking to me, and then the others will come and take us home."

"Don't...know if...I...can." His eyelids were so heavy.

"Keith. Keith!" There was the shaking on his shoulder again. "Come on, Keith, don't do this to me!" She was definitely crying, now, but he couldn't seem to make himself look to see why. "Keith!"

Everything was slipping further and further away, his body feeling as if it could just melt into the floor and disappear. He'd be okay with that. He was more than ready for it. It was only a shift somewhere above him that brought a jolt of pain and a gasp from Pidge that brought him back around, his eyes fluttering open once more.

Pidge caught his gaze and smiled through the tears that streaked her cheeks. "Look, Keith, look!" She cut her eyes up and he did the same. A shaft of light was piercing through their dark little hole, and up above the familiar groan of a Lion's joints could be heard.

"They're here, Keith. I told you they would come. We're gonna go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you liked it! Or, you know, just wish me a happy birthday. 😉


	5. Failed Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today we’re back to ambiguous endings. I was pretty happy with how this one in particular turned out, though. Another shout out to @trope-appreciation-tuesdays for providing inspiration for certain parts!

**Day 5 - Failed Escape**

**Warnings:** broken bones, guns, gunshot wounds, restraints, ambiguous ending

He had to keep running. 

He didn’t know where he was.

Purple lights flashed by, every hallway exactly the same as the last. 

He didn’t know where he was going.

Didn’t matter. All that mattered was running. 

He had to keep running.

The clank of sentries feet echoed from around the corner, and Keith flattened himself against the wall. Trying to hold his breath, wanting to pant. His thumb hurt so bad. Even with it tucked up underneath his other arm, every step jolted it and sent pain stabbing up through his wrist. Unfortunately, breaking it had been his only option for getting out of the cuffs and into the corridors of the ship, where he was now. He couldn’t regret it. Not yet, anyway. If this half-baked escape attempt actually got him into a pod and on his way home, then he wouldn’t regret a thing.

The sentries were gone. Time to move again. Darting out into the hall, he tightened his grip on the blaster he had stolen. He hated shooting. His dad had taught him how, when he was just a little kid, but it had never been his thing. He could do it, though. He’d do whatever he needed to to get out of this place.

Running again. Always running. Choosing a hallway at random, trying and failing to keep a mental map. Occasionally a bout of dizziness would make him stumble and have to catch himself on a wall. It had been a long time since he had gotten anything to eat or drink.

But it didn’t matter. Sure, he was exhausted, and his head throbbed and his legs were threatening to seize up with cramps and send him tumbling to the floor. All that mattered was getting back to his team.

A metallic shout from around the corner. Keith cursed, falling back, but it was too late. He had been spotted. He hadn’t been careful enough. Sentries were marching his way, and he had no choice but to retrace his steps back to the last intersection. Alarms started wailing while he ran. He cursed again.

Skidding to a stop, he took a quick peek around the corner and groaned. More sentries. Coming his way, of course. This was quickly going downhill, and he was beginning to lose confidence that it wouldn’t end with him being dragged back to his cell. But he wasn’t giving in, not without a fight. 

There were fewer sentries coming down this hall than the previous one, so he made his decision and leaned around, gun at the ready. One shot. Two shots. Both missed, terribly, and now there was return fire. Ducking back, he squeezed his eyes shut, adjusted his grip, and tried to swallow past the sandpaper in his throat. The alarms pounded against his skull.

A lull in the shooting. He came out of hiding again and fired, this time hitting a sentry square in the chest. It gave him the confidence boost he needed to take out the other three, only barely flinching as their lasers grazed the wall by his head.

He did jump, though, when they were all down and another shot just missed him from behind. His heart rammed into his throat as he spun around. The next shot didn’t miss. Keith cried out, his spine slamming back into the wall. Fire spread through his arm. Stumbling, nearly blind from the pain, he turned the corner to hide from the incoming sentries. But now he couldn’t lift his gun. The stupid bucketheads had hit his shooting arm, leaving him with no choice but to switch the blaster into the hand with the broken thumb. It trembled as he fought for a decent hold.

No time to stop. No time to let the pain get to him. He had to keep running. 

The next hallway down looked vaguely familiar. He didn’t know what that meant. Was he getting close to his destination, or was he going in circles? 

There. That door. Something about it called to him. He managed to lift his arm enough to slap the palm onto the scanner, biting back a whine.

A burst of stale air, and a cavernous room greeted him. The ship bay. Keith could have cried with relief. Now all he had to do was find a ship that he could fly, and…

“I’m impressed, Red Paladin.”

No.

Please,  _ no _ .

“Though I’m not surprised you tried to run, I am impressed with just how far you got.”

He raised his blaster defiantly, training it on her face, ignoring how it shook and how his whole hand screamed. 

“Really, Red Paladin. You and I both know you’re smarter than that.”

She was right. The thought made him want to barf, but it was true. Shooting at her would be pointless, would only delay the inevitable and possibly cause more punishment for himself. He gritted his teeth. Despite knowing it, despite being more utterly exhausted and in more pain than he had ever been in before, he didn’t want to give in. Giving in would be letting her win, and admitting he had failed. 

In the end, it didn’t matter what he wanted. Never really had, probably never would. He heard the soldiers behind him an instant before they each seized an arm, ripping a cry out of his throat as they yanked them harshly behind his back and forced him to drop the blaster. 

“You should have known I wouldn’t let you leave so easily. I haven’t even gotten the chance to dig through that lovely, information-filled mind of yours. But don’t worry, we’ll remedy that soon.”

He wanted to fight as they dragged him back through the same hallways he had just worked so hard to traverse. Wanted to scream, to curse, to kick and spit and let them all know exactly how he felt about them. Instead, he just stumbled along silently. 

He had failed. 

He had been given an opportunity that he was guaranteed not to get again, and he had failed.

They were back to his cell. The same putrid hole that he had hoped never to see again. The guards didn’t make the mistake of chaining his hands behind his back this time. Instead they went up above his head, far enough apart that there was no way he could work the broken thumb out of the shackle again. 

“Guess we’d better make sure he can’t run again.”

A smirk. “Yeah, guess we’d better.”

He couldn’t hold back the screams as the mallet came down on first one leg, then the other.

Couldn’t stop the tears that poured down his face as he was left alone in the dark.

Didn’t really even see a reason to.

He had failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did ya think? Yell at me in a comment or on Tumblr @actress4Him!


	6. "Get it Out"/"Stop, Please"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s fic is definitely a dark one, though it does have a happy ending. Allura gets a moment to shine, and Hunk gets several. Make sure to check the warnings and let me know if I missed any!

**Day 6 - “Get it out”/“Stop, please”**

****Warnings:**** restraints, non-consensual body modification, fantastic racism, blood, vomit, gore, graphic descriptions of brain surgery

“You can’t do this!”

Keith yanked at the restraints that held his wrists against the table. It was fruitless, he knew, he had been trying ever since they strapped him down several minutes ago, but that didn’t stop him from trying again. If he could just get his hands free, he could get up and knock these psychotic racists off their feet. 

“They’ll stop you. Voltron will stop you!”

He couldn’t see any of the people looming over him, not with his face forced down into a hole in the table so that the back of his head was excruciatingly exposed. That didn’t mean he couldn’t feel their presence. They didn’t even speak, didn’t acknowledge his protests and threats. To them, he was already just an object lying there, nothing to concern themselves with other than to prep him for their procedure. He kept pulling on the straps, almost as if determined to prove them wrong. 

A buzzing sound that he would recognize anywhere started up and made his stomach turn a somersault. Suddenly what was about to happen to him was very, very real, and Keith was very afraid. Arching his neck back as best he could, he shouted at the top of his lungs. “No! No, stop! Don’t...don’t do this!”

“Hold him.”

Briefly a lab coat appeared in front of him, then a pair of hands braced themselves on either side of his head and shoved down hard. There was no fighting against Altean strength, especially not from that position. The buzzing drew closer. Keith flinched violently at the first contact of the blade, though it only swept gently down the back of his scalp, taking large clumps of hair with it. He gritted his teeth to hold back a sob.

A minute later and that part of the job was done. A wet cloth swept over the newly shaven area, cleaning off small bits of hair left behind. Every touch made a shudder run through Keith’s body.

“He’s prepped.”

“Thank you, Noraja.”

More hands on his head, this time poking and prodding. “Alright, making the first incision now.”

Keith’s whole body tensed. This was it, his last chance to fight. “Stop, please! You don’t understand, I’m not like them! I’m a Paladin of Voltron, I help people! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Make sure you keep him still.”

“Don’t worry, sir, I’ve got him.”

Then there was something slicing into the bared skin, and it hurt just as much as he knew it was going to, but even worse than the pain was the knowledge that it was not in the least the worst part of all of this. Tears stung his eyes, but he blinked rapidly to banish them. He wouldn’t beg anymore. He wouldn’t. It did no good, anyway. His team was clearly not going to be able to save him, regardless of his boasts. The best that he could do was live his last free moments with as much dignity as possible.

The pain in his head intensified. The Altean surgeon had made at least two cuts by then, though Keith lost track of what was happening after that through the pain and the feeling of blood pouring out and being methodically blotted away. 

There was another whirring sound, and if the razor had scared him, this froze him with absolute terror. 

“Ready to drill.”

It didn’t really hurt. Somehow, there was no new pain, but Keith screamed, anyway. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t actually feel the drill going in, the vibration of his entire skull and the knowledge of what was happening was enough to send him over the edge. 

He was gonna pass out. He  _ couldn’t _ pass out. If he passed out, he would wake up and they would be done and he would have missed his last chance to actually live, however horrendous this life now was. 

So instead, his stomach heaved and emptied itself onto the floor beneath him. The person holding his head didn’t even seem to flinch. His vision faded in and out as the horrible drilling continued, but he held on until it finally, mercifully stopped. 

“Alright, the hard part is done.”

“Looks good, Doctor.”

“We’re ready now for the hoktril.”

The hoktril. The thing that all of this madness was about. The metal device that these alternate-universe Alteans were so proud of, that they were about to implant in his brain through the holes they had just  _ drilled through his skull _ , that would sap all of his free will and leave him as a mindless slave. All because Commander Hira found out that he was half Galra, and Allura and the others hadn’t been able to stop them from overpowering him and dragging him away.

“Please,” he choked. His earlier determination not to beg was forgotten in the midst of the panic that seized his chest. “ _ Please! _ ” 

For most of his life, Keith had been prepared to die. Particularly now, when he faced death every other day. Dying didn’t scare him. But this...this was much worse than death. This fate terrified him.

The metal went in with a sickening squelch, cold against his cut open skin. 

“It’s a perfect fit.”

Tears overflowed despite his best efforts, rolling just onto his cheekbones before succumbing to gravity and dropping to the floor. Any second. Any second now they would complete the process, turn it on or whatever it was they had to do, and Keith would be no more. How aware would he actually be? Did the hoktril actually delete free will as they claimed, leaving him neutral and complacent, or would he be trapped inside his own body for the rest of eternity, screaming where no one could hear? He’d find out any second now. And then it would be too late.

“Alright, now pass me the -”

“Stop right there! No one move!”

Keith gasped in a shaky breath. He knew that voice!

“E-Empress Allura?”

He let out a sob of relief. Allura was here. Allura was here, and she sounded  _ mad. _

“Everyone take your hands off the black paladin and back away slowly.” That was Lance. He had on his business voice, and they must have had their bayards out, too, because miraculously, every hand lifted until it was only the straps holding him there. 

“Empress, I apologize, but there must be some kind of misunderstanding. You see, our orders come from Commander Hira, and -”

“And I outrank Commander Hira, do I not? Everyone out, now.”

“But the procedure is not finished, he’s still a danger-”

“Now!”

Allura’s tone brooked no argument. There was a shuffling of chairs and feet, and Keith felt the presences that had hovered over him all this time retreat. A door clicked shut, and the team exploded.

“Oh my stars,  _ Keith! _ ”

“Holy quiznak.”

“Dude, I’m so sorry -”

“Guys, I can’t, I can’t I can’t, I’m gonna…”

This was followed by the unmistakable sound of Hunk losing his lunch somewhere across the room, but Keith’s attention was on the others who had approached him. A gentle hand rested on his back, and he couldn’t help but tense. 

“I’m so sorry, Keith,” Allura began from above him. “We tried to get here as fast as we could, but Hira had us detained for ‘obstruction of justice’, and -” Her breath hitched. “I’m so, so sorry. Thank the stars we didn’t arrive any later.”

Keith couldn’t reply. He was so incredibly, undeniably relieved to have them there, but he still couldn’t stop shaking and crying. As Allura and Pidge began murmuring together about scientific things, a pair of armored knees appeared in his vision, followed by a round, slightly pale but still smiling face. 

“Hey buddy,” Hunk greeted him softly. “Give me a sec, I’m just gonna…” Fetching a towel from somewhere nearby, he threw it over the puddle of sick so that he could scoot in closer, hunching over so that he could be almost directly below Keith. It had to have been uncomfortable, but seeing a familiar face eased just a bit of the lingering fear.

“Hey, you’re okay now. Those bad guys are gone, and nobody’s gonna hurt you anymore, I promise.”

“Get it out.” It started as a whisper, but quickly grew to a frantic near-shout. “Get it out, get it out,  _ please _ …”

“Yeah, yeah, we will! Okay? Shh, just...just try to take some deep breaths…”

The tears wouldn’t stop coming. “Please. I just want it out.”

Pidge suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision, squatting down to see him. “We’re gonna work on that, okay? The good news is, they only made it through putting in the metal base piece. None of the actual important pieces were inserted. So it’s just a matter of removing the base and getting you back to the Castle to heal.”

As she vanished again, Hunk smiled at him. “Hear that? It’ll be gone before you know it. Just hang in there, bud.”

Lance’s voice came through the table. “Hey Keith, I’m just gonna put my hand on your head, okay?” He did so without waiting for a response, and Keith immediately panicked.

“No!  _ No!”  _ Kicking out against the restraints, he fought against the hand holding his head down with all his remaining energy.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s okay!” 

He barely registered the hand disappearing, but he did hear Lance speak again, closer to his ear this time. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, man, I shouldn’t have...I won’t touch it again, okay? Promise. I just wanted to help you stay still while they were getting it out.”

Keith stopped struggling, though his body trembled anew. “I’ll keep it still,” he managed. “I swear.”

“I know you will,” Hunk replied, still keeping up his perky demeanor. “Hey Lance, unhook that hand for me, will ya?” 

The red paladin obliged, releasing Keith’s right hand from the strap and helping him maneuver it up toward his head. Hunk grasped it in both of his own.

“I’m right here for ya, okay? Feel free to squeeze as much as you need to.”

Keith gave a shaky nod. “‘Kay.”

The sound of the metal coming out was almost worse than going in, but it was more than worth it to feel that foreign pressure disappear. Keith shut his eyes with a long sigh, letting the last of his tears slip out. Hunk, to his credit, only turned slightly green, and kept on holding his hand and uttering reassurances the whole time. The other three worked quickly to tape on plenty of gauze, then helped him sit up very slowly with lots of support.

“Your beautiful mullet,” Lance groaned dramatically. “I can’t believe it’s ruined.”

Somehow Keith was able to huff a quiet laugh. “It’s only hair, Lance. It’ll grow back.”

Allura came around in front of him and clutched both his hands. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. We need to get you back as soon as possible.” She looked around at the rest of the team. “Getting out of here may not be easy, but let’s make it quick, alright? For Keith.”

“I volunteer for Keith-carrying duty!” Hunk announced.

Keith ducked his head. “Nobody needs to -”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t want to hear it.” Before he could say another word, Hunk had scooped him up off the table. “I promised you no one else would hurt you, and I’m gonna personally make sure that promise is kept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love love love to hear from my readers! Even if it’s just one word, let me know what you think!


	7. Carry/Support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This trope is one of my favs. Also we get Lance whump this time (in addition to Keith, of course), and a hopeful ending! Check the warnings and enjoy!

**Day 7 - Carrying/Support**

**Warnings:** broken bones, mild gore, death mention, mild blood, fever, scorpion mention, venomous creatures, vomit, seizures 

The creature was gone. Dead. Keith had made doubly sure of that. It was dead, which was good, but that didn’t change the state that it had left them in.

“Lance?” he called out uncertainly. The Blue Paladin had taken a bad hit from one of the monster’s wildly swinging arms during the fight, flying across the tiny clearing and slamming into the trunk of a tree. He hadn’t moved since. 

_ He’s dead,  _ a cynical voice in Keith’s head sneered.  _ He’s dead and it’s your fault. You got your own teammate killed. _

He shook the unwanted thoughts away and took a step closer, hissing as the wound in his side pulled. Lance wasn’t dead. He wouldn’t allow himself to even consider such a thing until he saw for himself. It was bad enough that Keith hadn’t been able to protect him from getting hurt, so he couldn’t possibly be dead.

Slowly he made his way over, one hand wrapped around his middle and applying pressure to the bleeding hole left by the creature’s sharp tail. The first thing he noticed about Lance was the blood on the side of his head. The second was the unnatural twist of his left leg. 

“Quiznak,” he whispered, then louder, “Lance. Lance, can you hear me?” Reaching out with his free hand, he hesitantly placed two fingers against his pulse point. 

_ There. _ A steady heartbeat. He released his breath in a whoosh, wincing at the pain that shot through his abdomen. Lance wasn’t dead. Just unconscious, which frankly, wasn’t a whole lot better in their situation. 

They were in the middle of the jungle, just the two of them, with their Lions, their team, the Castle, any hope of help miles and miles away. Something about the density or the material of the trees was blocking their comms signal. And clearly, the jungle was not a safe place to be. Staying here left them as sitting ducks, a nice, injured and helpless snack for the next alien creature that came along. So staying was not really a choice at all, but leaving would be a whole lot easier if Lance was awake.

“Lance. Hey.” He used the hand that had checked for a pulse to lightly pat his cheek. “Time to wake up. We gotta go.”

Nothing. He patted harder, falling just short of a slap, and dropped his hand to shake Lance’s shoulder. “Hey. come on. Let’s go.” Still nothing. “You. Cargo Pilot.” Not even the nickname he knew Lance couldn’t stand brought a reaction. 

Keith swallowed hard. His head injury must be really bad if he couldn’t be roused at all. What if he had internal bleeding? What if there was brain damage? What if he never woke up? 

_ Stop it. Stop worrying and just deal with the situation.  _ Clearly he was going to have to carry him, no matter how much his side protested that idea. First things first, he needed to try to stabilize both their injuries. Thank goodness for his knife. A couple of branches and both his sleeves later, Lance’s head was wrapped and his leg in a splint of sorts - not perfectly set, but held still so that it wouldn’t bounce too much while walking - and Keith’s waist was bandaged.

Now came the hard part, and he was already exhausted. Maybe it was blood loss, but the wound seemed to be sapping the energy straight out of him. Didn’t matter, though. He had to get Lance out of there. Had to get them both back to safety, back to the team. As gently as possible, he pulled Lance up by his arms to a sitting position, then turned and draped the arms over his shoulders, trying to make sure his head was resting against one of them in a comfortable position. When he was satisfied, he reached back and hooked his hands underneath his thighs. 

The sound that came out of him when he struggled up to his feet was somewhere between a whine and a groan, and he was glad that Lance wasn’t awake to hear it. Straining like that  _ hurt. _ He took a moment to breathe, to let the pain ease and get used to the weight on his back. It was a good thing that Lance was skinny, and not quite as muscular as Keith. Being taller was bad enough. His legs were so quiznaking  _ long, _ he could barely keep them from dragging the ground.

_ Alright. One step at a time. _ Slowly, he began to trudge forward. His side twinged with every step, but after a minute or two he found a bit of a rhythm, was able to ignore the pain and the way his chest was heaving for breaths already, at least for a while. He tried his best to keep his mind on the task and his surroundings, not on how creepily, unnaturally still Lance was, or how any tree could be hiding a new threat, or how at this rate it was going to take him twice the couple of vargas the trip out had taken. 

_ Just one foot in front of the other. _

_ Ignore the pain, it’s not getting worse, that’s just your imagination. _

_ Don’t trip on that root. _

_ It’s definitely not spreading, those are just muscles you aren’t used to using. _

_ Gotta get over the log. Don’t drop Lance. _

_ You’re just dizzy because you haven’t had food or water in a while.  _

He wanted to stop far sooner than he allowed himself to. How long he had been walking, he had no idea, but was hoping it was at least a varga. He had a feeling it was less. Putting Lance down almost wasn’t worth it, thinking about how he’d have to get them both back up in a few minutes, but he knew he had to rest and at least drink a little water from his canteen. It wouldn’t do Lance any good if he keeled over from dehydration or exhaustion before he got them out of there.

A quick check of his bandages told him that the bleeding had at least slowed down, if not stopped, which was good. What wasn’t good was the cold that had creeped in from out of nowhere and seized his flesh. The jungle was warm and humid, so it certainly wasn’t atmospheric. Keith shivered, pulling his legs in closer to his body and laying his forehead on his knees. A fever? It kinda felt like it, but it was far too soon for an infection to have set in. 

Shaking off the concern, he took one last sip of water and set about getting Lance onto his back. Exertion should keep him plenty warm.

_ Just keep walking. Just keep walking. Just keep -  _ great, now he was singing it like that stupid blue fish on that stupid movie the team had made him watch.

Exertion was doing nothing for his body temperature. Pretty soon he was shivering, his eyelids burning in that tell-tale way that meant he most definitely had a fever. His throat felt as if it was stuffed full of cotton balls, leaving only the tiniest of holes for him to breathe and swallow through.

A moan from near his ear brought him to a stumbling halt. “Lance?”

Another moan, this one accompanied by movement. “Wha-... _ ow. _ ”

Keith shut his eyes in relief, then opened them quickly when he realized he was listing to one side. “ _ Lance. _ ” 

“Keith? What...what’s goin’ on?”

“We’re on our...way back. T-to the city.” Speaking it out loud reminded him that he should still be walking, so he gritted his teeth and stepped out again.

“What...happened? My head…”

“Yeah, you...you hit it...pretty good. Broke your...leg...too. M-monster...remember?”

Lance shifted against his back, seeming to become a bit more alert. “Oh, yeah. I do remember that.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth as one or the other of his injuries flared.

“Take...it easy. Don’t...don’t…” Keith stumbled, almost falling, losing what he wanted to say in the meantime.

“Hey, you okay? Why don’t you stop and rest a minute? It can’t be easy for a shorty like you to carry me for long.”

“Can’t. Just...stopped. Gotta...get…”

“Yeah, but you don’t sound so good. Come on, Mullet, just for a minute.”

His body and mind were at war over the idea, but his body and Lance’s pestering won out in the end. Getting down proved much easier with Lance awake and able to stand on one leg and support himself against a tree. Once he was sure that Lance was sitting comfortably, he nearly collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself again.

“Geez, you look even worse than you sounded.” Lance leaned in, brushing the hair off of Keith’s forehead with one hand. “Dude, you’re burning up! What happened to you?”

Keith shook his head. “His tail...got me. Don’t know...why...fever…”

Lance raised one eyebrow at him. “You mean the tail that looked a lot like a scorpion’s? Oh gee, Mullet, I dunno, how ever could that have given you a fever?”

The cotton from his throat had moved into his brain now, causing him to just stare at Lance with a blank gaze. Seeing this, his friend seemed to take pity on him and softened his tone.

“It was probably venomous, bud.”

Venom. Right. That would make sense. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “We gotta...we gotta keep goin’. Not...safe. You n-need…” Suddenly remembering the head injury, he looked up and grabbed Lance’s chin, turning his face to the side. “Gotta...get help. Could be…” The words floated away again, leaving him shaking his head in confusion.

“Hey.” Lance took his hand and lowered it. “I’m okay. I’m more worried about you right now. You’re right, we should get going, though. We need to get you back to the Castle, stat.”

Keith nodded, then struggled up to a crouch and turned his back to Lance, waiting for arms to be thrown around his neck.

“Oh, no. No way am I letting you carry me. Just help me up and we’ll walk together.”

Keith glared at him over his shoulder. “Your leg...is broken.”

“Yep, and you’re gonna be my crutch.” He gripped the tree trunk and started trying to pull himself up, leaving Keith no choice but to stand and help him before he hurt himself even worse. 

With Lance’s arm across his shoulders and his hand gripping Lance’s belt on the opposite side, they were able to get started again, going even slower than before but going, regardless. Keith would never admit that he was grateful for the new position, since he still thought Lance shouldn’t be walking, but he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he would have made it otherwise. Even as it was, his body felt like it was burning from the inside out, his vision kept going spotty, and he definitely felt like Lance was supporting him just as much as the other way around. They had to stop to rest far too often, and more than once they had to pause and let Keith throw up, or at least attempt to.

It was nearing dark by the time they finally broke out of the jungle and saw the city where the team was waiting for them in the distance. Lance gave a quiet, tired cheer. Keith celebrated by dropping to the ground, nearly dragging Lance down with him, every muscle in his body spasming involuntarily. 

Vaguely, over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, he could hear Lance screaming his name before slipping into Spanish for several sentences. It felt like an eternity before the convulsions stopped. Eventually, he became aware that his head was pillowed on Lance’s good leg, and the blue paladin was looking down at him with wet eyes.

“S-sorry,” he slurred. “I don’t...I...wanted...to get you...back. But…”

“Hey, no, it’s okay,” Lance whispered. “You got me this far. I’ll get you the rest of the way. Somehow.” He tore his gaze away from Keith’s face to stare off at the lights of the city. “I’m just...not sure how, yet.”

“Your...leg’s broken.”

Lance huffed. “Yeah. I know. You keep reminding me of that.”

There was a sudden explosion of  _ presence  _ in Keith’s mind, and he let his eyes slip shut with a smile. “Red’s comin’.”

“Red’s...wait, what? She is?”

A roar filled the air, and Keith relaxed for the first time since morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments give fanfic authors life!


	8. Abandoned/Isolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is our first strictly emotional whump day...only a couple of brief, non-graphic mentions of an already existing injury. Also, today’s fic is really freakin’ sad. Like, I almost made myself cry. So, sorry ahead of time.

**Day 8 - Abandoned/Isolation**

**Warnings:** fantastic racism, not really suicide ideation but kinda?, abandonment, solitary confinement, disassociation, imprisonment, foster home mention, self-loathing, restraints, unflattering depiction of everyone except Keith and sorta Shiro, ambiguous ending

“I’m...part Galra.”

“I...I’m sorry, what?”

Keith ducked his head and cut his eyes to the side to avoid looking at Allura. “The knife I got from my mom. It’s...something that every Blade carries. And the only way to activate one is to...have Galra blood.”

“And you activated yours?”

His eyes darted up to Coran’s unreadable expression and back down again. “Yes.”

“Wait, but that makes no sense,” Lance exclaimed, and Keith could imagine his hands flailing as he spoke. “He’s human. He’s obviously human.”

Hunk hummed in agreement. “Yeah, if he was part Galra you’d think there’d be some sign of it. Something...purple, or something, I dunno.”

“Or a little more height,” Lance snorted. 

Shiro’s hand dropped onto his uninjured shoulder, and he jumped. “Well, we don’t know for sure how much of him is actually Galra. Obviously he ended up with mostly human genes, at least when it comes to appearance.”

“Ah, but other than appearance...that actually explains so much about Mullet. Hot-headed, reckless, socially inept -”

Normally Keith would have snapped back by then, but he just drew his shoulders farther up toward his ears, arms crossed tightly across his chest as if he could keep himself from falling apart. It was Shiro who broke in for him.

“Lance, that’s enou-”

“When were you planning on telling us?”

The question took him so much by surprise that he jerked his head up, regretting it as soon as he saw Allura’s stony glare. “W-what?”

Sparks seemed to shoot from her impossibly blue eyes. “When were you planning on telling us your heritage, before this accidental reveal today? Sometime after you betrayed us, I suppose?”

Keith couldn’t seem to catch his breath. “No, n-...I didn’t know, I swear. This is...this is as much of a surprise to me as it is to all of you.” He knew the news wouldn’t be taken well, especially by Allura, though Coran, Shiro, and Pidge were next on the list. But he never expected to be accused of hiding it from them, of planning to betray Voltron. “I’m not...I would never…”

“Never what, turn on Voltron? If you’re really Galra, which I assume you wouldn’t lie about that, then it’s in your very nature.”

Shiro gave his shoulder a squeeze and spoke up. “Princess, as the person here who has known Keith the longest, I can assure you that what he says is true. He didn’t know until today.”

“And how would you know that?” she shot back. “How do you know that he hasn’t just been hiding it from you, like he has from all of us?”

“Because I know him.” Shiro waved a hand to include the others in the room. “We all know him! Right? We’ve been working alongside him all these months...he’s helped save so many people, including each of us! Regardless of whether he knew or not - which I still believe he didn’t - he’s a good person. Being part Galra doesn’t define him.” It was an echo of the words he had told Keith on the way back to the Castle. Keith still wasn’t sure that he believed them anymore than the rest of the room’s occupants.

Hunk was the first to reply, hesitantly. “I...I don’t know, man. I mean, I kinda really... _ don’t _ know him all that well? I’d like to say I do, but…”

“But Mullet never really lets anybody get to know him.” Lance sounded much less hesitant, and more and more like he was siding with Allura. “He’s always so standoffish. I thought it was just because he was a jerk, but maybe it was because he was keeping a secret. Or because he was plotting to kill us all.”

Shiro gaped at him, flabbergasted. “Lance! You don’t really think that, do you?”

But he did. They all did, to some extent or another, Keith could see it. They all thought he was some kind of monster, and...maybe he was. 

Lance continued to defend his opinion, while Hunk waved his hands in front of his face and refused to give more of one. It was obvious from Shiro’s tone that he was growing not only frustrated, but desperate. Finally, he turned to the youngest member of the team, the only one who had yet to speak. 

“Pidge?”

A moment passed before she lifted her head, and Keith’s heart skipped a beat when those tear-filled but furious eyes met his. She opened her mouth and sucked in an audible breath before throwing her words like daggers. “Do you know where my family is?”

His stomach plummeted to the floor. “ _ No, _ Pidge, I...of  _ course _ I don’t, I -” He couldn’t say anymore. It didn’t matter what he said, anyway, no one was going to listen to him. Pidge turned her eyes back to the floor, fists clenched by her sides, as the rest of the room devolved into chaos.

Shiro and Allura were shouting back and forth at each other, Hunk was trying to comfort Pidge, and Lance was shooting glares at him like he was the devil incarnate. Keith stood in the middle of it all with his hands fisted in his hair, wishing he could disappear. Wishing he could go back to that morning and never go to the base, wishing he could go back all the way to the beginning and never be born. It’d be better that way, right? A freak of nature like he was shouldn’t exist. If he’d never been born, then Voltron would have found another red paladin, one who wasn’t Galra, and they could carry on saving the universe without having to deal with this mess.

“Enough!” Allura’s voice rang out over everyone else. “Perhaps we cannot prove his true motives, but one thing is certain, he cannot be trusted. Coran, Lance, escort him downstairs to a cell. We will decide what to do with him at a later date.”

Keith went numb. Everything that happened from that moment on felt like he was watching a movie on a screen. Shiro fairly exploded, protesting Allura’s decision, but the princess pinned him to the nearest console and sneered something about him daring to usurp her authority. Cold, unfeeling hands latched onto both his arms, tugging him harshly toward the door. He walked in a daze.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a spherical, blue-tinted forcefield, with no knowledge of how he had gotten there. Down a long walkway, Coran and Lance were disappearing into an elevator. The doors slammed shut on their backs. He was completely alone.

Alone, like he had been after his dad died when he was six. Alone, like he had been in nearly every foster home that followed. Alone, like when Shiro went to Kerberos and subsequently vanished. He thought that by now he’d be used to being alone. But he wasn’t. Not anymore. Not when he had spent the last few months surrounded by people, people whom he didn’t always get along with, but whom he had finally let himself begin to call friends. Not when he had thought he was finally figuring out what it felt like to belong somewhere.

Sinking to the floor, he bit back a hysterical laugh. He should have known better. Nothing good ever lasted in his life. No one but Shiro ever really cared about him, so why had he let himself think that these people did? Maybe Lance was right. Maybe it was all because he had been Galra all along. He had always been the weird kid, the outsider, the foster that nobody wanted, the troublemaker, the rebel. Anytime something good came along, he somehow drove it away. Shiro had spent a lot of time trying to convince him that it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t responsible for other people’s choices, but Keith had never quite believed him. If it wasn’t true, then why did trouble and sorrow seem to follow him everywhere he went? Even as an adult, even in quiznaking  _ space  _ he couldn’t keep from messing up the good in his life.

He didn’t blame Allura for locking him up. Didn’t blame Lance for his glares, didn’t blame Pidge for her anger or Hunk and Coran for their silence. He wouldn’t trust him, either, if he was in their place. The Galra had ruined each and every one of their lives. Even if he knew that he would never, ever hurt his team...maybe he could take on some of the blame of his race. If punishing him made them feel better, then he’d take it.

Time dragged by in that tiny cell. He knew, because the lights in the cavernous room around him brightened and dimmed with the Castle’s cycles just like they did upstairs, and bowls of food goo emerged out of the ground twice per cycle. Maybe it was some kind of Altean science/magic, or maybe there was just a dispenser beneath the floor. He didn’t know, or care. He was glad to get the food, but the fact that he didn’t even get that tiny bit of interaction that someone bringing him a meal would give him hurt. It was like being in the desert shack all over again, but much worse. In the desert, he had the choice to go into town and see people if he wanted, and he had keeping himself alive and chasing after the Blue Lion to keep his mind occupied.

Here, he had nothing. His time was divided between eating, pacing the floor, doing pushups - one armed, since his shoulder still wasn’t healed - and situps, and lying on the hard bed, though he slept very little. 

He wasn’t sure what hurt more - the initial rejection and mistrust, or the lack of care now. No one even bothered to come down and ask him questions, to try to find out the truth, much less actually check on him and make sure he was okay. He wondered if they even looked at the security feed ever to see if he was even still alive. 

He knew what did hurt the most, though, more than both of those things combined. Shiro. Out of everyone, he thought that at least Shiro would come down at some point. The fact that he had so readily accepted Keith’s Galra heritage had baffled him, but he had been the only one trying to defend him. So where was he now? Were they preventing him from visiting somehow? Or had he changed his mind after all, and sided with the others?

In the end, it took them four quintants that felt like an eternity to decide his fate. The elevator doors opened late in the day, the sudden noise after so much silence startling. Keith swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up quickly, trying not to be too disappointed when only Allura and Coran walked out. He supposed it was too much to ask that he could see all of his friends one more time. 

Stopping in front of the cell, Allura folded her arms in front of her while Coran crossed his in the back. Both were stoic, betraying no emotion on their faces. Allura, of course, was the one to speak.

“We’ve come to escort you off the ship.”

His stomach clenched, even though he hadn’t expected anything different. “Okay.”

“We have landed on a planet called Borulmyte. It is inhabited only by various primitive and non sentient species. The atmosphere is breathable and the climate livable for both humans and Galra.” The last word was said with no small measure of disgust. “There are plenty of edible plants and animals, so you should be able to survive just fine.”

Survive. That was the key word in all of this, wasn’t it? He had half expected not to survive, to be thrown out of an airlock into the cold vacuum of space. But now...surviving is all that he would be doing. Alone, again. He shouldn’t have expected anything different. Alone was apparently his destiny. Alone on a planet with no other sentient life, no one to interact with, no possible way of ever leaving. 

Surviving. No more living, those days were over. He wasn’t ever very good at that, anyway. Surviving was what he did best. How long, though, would he last? How long until he decided he was tired of surviving, when there wasn’t even anything left to survive for? Out in the desert, he had had the Blue Lion calling him, and the stubborn notion that Shiro wasn’t really dead. Now...he’d only have himself.

“This was certainly no easy decision, and much time, discussion, and thought has gone into choosing the proper planet. So I hope that you will cooperate and not cause a scene. Nothing you can say or do is going to change our minds now.”

For a moment, he let himself imagine those discussions. It certainly wasn’t the first time over the past few days he had done so. Did anyone advocate for him? Had Shiro been the one to insist that they make sure the planet was livable? Had they chosen a basically uninhabited place because they wanted to keep him safe from possible Galra rule, or because they wanted to keep locals safe from him? Had anyone voted for just throwing him out the airlock?

He nodded and stood. “Okay.”

An opening was made in the force field so that Coran could enter and lock his wrists into energy cuffs. Then he was escorted up the walkway, into the elevator for a completely silent ride, and out into the familiar front hall. It almost seemed like just yesterday that he and the others had crept cautiously through those towering doors, having no clue the adventures that were waiting for them inside. Now he was being figuratively thrown out the same doors onto a planet that was just as unknown as Arus had been then.

The light was dim when they exited, whatever sun might exist there already having set. They were in an open, desert like area, but a forest of some sort was nearby. At least he had options. He knew how to make his way in an Earth desert, but for food and shelter the forest might be his best option.

“This is where we leave you.” 

Coran stepped forward and removed the cuffs, and Keith absentmindedly rubbed at his wrists.

“Don’t suppose I get a communicator like our...your allies.”

Allura just stared at him with the same, unchanging expression. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Right. Listen, um...could you...give everybody a message from me? I was...hoping to get to say goodbye, but…”

Sighing heavily, Allura looked as if she was barely refraining from rolling her eyes. “I suppose that depends on what this ‘message’ is.”

“Um.” He looked down at his feet, scuffing the toes of his boot into the sand. “Tell...tell Hunk that I’ll...miss his cooking. Especially those brownies he made for me. And tell Lance that...I never hated him. He...annoyed me sometimes, but...he was a good friend, too.” 

He drew in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Tell Pidge…” He swallowed. “Tell Pidge that I hope she finds her family. I really, really do. And that she’s doing great with her bayard. I...kept meaning to tell her that, but never did.

“And Shiro…” His jaw tightened. There were so, so many things to say to Shiro. Things that he should have said long ago, things that he had said before but could never say enough. Things that he’d never get a chance to say again. He dashed errant tears away with the back of his hand. “Just...tell him I love him.”

He looked up finally, giving a wobbly half smile. Allura looked even sterner than before, though Coran’s mouth had twisted a bit to the side in an expression that Keith couldn’t read. “And thank you both, for letting me have the chance to fly Red. She’s...amazing.” One corner of his mouth lifted a little more. “Tell her I’ll miss her.”

A long, awkward moment passed before Allura cleared her throat. “Right, then. If that’s all…”

Coran seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts and pulled Keith’s knife out of his pocket. “We figured you might as well have this. It is yours, after all, and you’ll need it, I’m sure.”

Keith whispered his thanks as he gingerly took it from the man's hands.

“Alright. Well...farewell, Number Four.” Coran gave a little salute, Allura a curt nod, and they turned their backs to walk back up into the Castle.

Once they were gone, Keith stayed rooted in place, unable to make himself move. It was only when the Castle rumbled to life that he took a few unsteady steps backwards. The place that he had come to call home over the past few months lifted from the ground before shooting off into the sky. Keith tipped back his head and watched until it was no more than a speck, blending in with the stars that had begun to come out, refusing to let the tears that burned at his eyelids fall.

There was a pretty good chance that none of his messages would ever get relayed. He hoped they would, but knew that he’d never find out one way or the other. He’d never see any of those he thought were his friends again.

He was alone.

All that was left to do now was survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...did I make you cry?


	9. "Take Me Instead"/Ritual Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be answering comments, but I wanted to make a general announcement for everyone...I've gotten multiple requests (and one threat) for a part 2 of the previous chapter, and since I did enjoy writing that AU and already had somewhat of an idea of how it would continue in my head, I'm gonna try to write one. I'm currently writing Day 23, which means I have several prompt days left I can try to stick it in. If that doesn't work, I'll either do a bonus chapter at the end, or repost that fic separately with the second part added.
> 
> This one’s definitely another dark one. I may have gotten slightly carried away with the whump. So make sure you check the warnings before you read! There’s a lot of them! I also may have gotten slightly carried away with the syntax of these aliens...haha. We’ve got a little bit of Shiro in here, but mainly it’s Red who gets her turn in the spotlight with Keith.

**Day 9 - “Take Me Instead”/Ritual Sacrifice**

**Warnings:** human sacrifice, alien religion, a little bit of fantastic racism, non- consensual drug use, lots of non-consensual touching (not sexual), death mention, forced stripping (not sexual), nudity (not sexual), very vague references to child abuse if you squint, drowning, fire, burns, wrist cutting (not self-harm), blood, wishing for death (not actual suicide ideation)

Of all possible ways to be woken up, the sound of Shiro struggling to breathe was certainly not one of Keith’s favorites. He was on his feet the moment his groggy brain realized what he was hearing, but was immediately put into the same headlock that he could see his roommate for the night in. It wasn’t often that someone could get the jump on either one of them. Keith was going to blame the fact that the cowards had struck while they were asleep.

The cowards, in this case, were the Luktorians, a race that had seemed perfectly nice up until this moment. A bit odd, perhaps, and difficult to understand - Lance kept insisting they sounded like drunk Yoda - but peaceful. They had rather human-looking faces, offset by the various shades of blue skin they sported and the fact that they had impossibly long and skinny necks and four arms. It was those four arms that held him in place now, one around his neck, one across his chest and shoulders, and two latched onto his wrists.

“Shh. You Paladin calm yourself must. Harm no mean we you.”

“If you don’t mean us harm, then why are you attacking us in our sleep?” Keith growled.

The alien holding Shiro spoke up. “Need only have we of him. Sleep may you.”

“I don’t think so.” Keith attempted to lunge forward, but made it nowhere. “What do you need him for? You’re not taking anybody anywhere without some answers!”

A slight smile came over the pale blue alien’s face. “Come have you at a time perfect. The night tonight of the sacrifice great is.”

Keith’s brain stuck on one word out of that gibberish. “Wait, sacrifice? What do you mean, what sacrifice?”

The Luktorian behind him bent his long neck forward to look him in the face. “A sacrifice it is for enemies our protection from. Away keeps the Galra the goddess great and harm us others who would.”

“Okay, we can understand that,” Shiro finally broke in, though he seemed to still be struggling with the arm that was around his throat. “But, uh...that’s what Voltron is here to do. Right? We’re making an alliance with your people so that  _ we _ can keep the Galra away. S-so...maybe you don’t need a sacrifice this time.”

A stormy look came over both the alien’s faces. “Claim do you the goddess great with equal to be?”

“N-no, no, that’s not what I was saying.” Keith was glad that Shiro knew at all what they were accusing, because he was lost, himself. “I’m just...thinking that perhaps your goddess is the one who brought us here. Perhaps she’s already protecting you, using Voltron.”

They seemed to consider this for a moment, and Keith held his breath. “Perhaps,” one answered at last. “Must make we if so the goddess great a sacrifice to thank.”

Keith let out a groan. There didn’t seem to be any way they were getting out of this one easily. But they still hadn’t actually heard what this sacrifice actually entailed, so maybe there was hope yet, though based on the late night choke hold he wasn’t counting on it.

Shiro seemed to be on the same train of thought. “So, um...what exactly do you need us...me...to do? How can I help?”

His captor smiled again, and Keith decided he did not like that look at all. “Quietly must come you prepared the altar for to be. Short running time is.”

Shiro paled visibly even in the dim lighting. “Right. So...I’m the sacrifice.”

Keith lunged again. “No! You’re not sacrificing him, I won’t let you!”

The Luktorian tipped his head to the side and regarded him as if he was a child. “Warrior strong the Paladin Black is and ties to the Galra has close. A candidate perfect is he.”

As Keith continued to struggle, Shiro did his best to lock eyes with him. “Keith, it’s okay. We’ll...we’ll figure this out, it’ll be okay.”

“No, it’s not okay, Shiro!” He had one more thing to try. It was a long shot, and Shiro would hate him for it, but he had to try. “Listen. You want somebody with close ties to the Galra? Then take me.”

“Keith, no!”   
  


He ignored the interruption and made direct eye contact with Shiro’s captor. “Shiro...the Black Paladin...has been hurt by the Galra just as much as your people have, maybe more. His ties to the Galra are like yours. But me…” He sucked in as deep a breath as he could. “I’m part Galra. I’m a warrior, too, and you can’t get any closer to the Galra than me without sacrificing a pure-blooded one. Take me.”

Silence fell as everyone stared at him. Keith stubbornly refused to meet Shiro’s gaze, not wanting to see the pain that would be there.

“The truth think you do tells he?”

“Mm, think I does he.”

A definitive nod. “The sacrifice be then shall the Paladin Red.”

Now it was Shiro’s turn to struggle and lunge. “No! No, I’ll do it, I’ll go with you! I’ll be your sacrifice, okay? Just leave him here, leave him alone!”

Keith gave him a tight half-smile. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine.”

The pale blue alien released his one arm from Shiro’s shoulders so that he could reach into his pocket and pull out a small vial. Popping it open with his thumb, he poured the powdery substance over his captive’s head. “Sleep.”

Immediately Shiro’s eyes dropped shut and his chin slammed into his chest. The Luktorian deposited him gently back onto his bed and threw the blanket back over his legs. “Wake not the others and he will morning until.”

Keith clenched his teeth.  _ Guess that rules out the possibility of screaming and alerting everyone out in the hall. _

The royal blue alien holding him moved his top two hands down to grip his upper arms, finally leaving his neck free. “Come. Prepare the altar you for must we. Fight or your mind change not do or back come will we the Paladin Black for.”

_ Right. Cooperate or lose Shiro.  _ There wasn’t even a debate to be had. He would always, always protect Shiro anytime he had the chance. He was his brother, in everything but blood or law, and he had already been through far too much for someone so young.  _ Don’t you think you dying will be hard for him?  _ He quickly pushed that thought aside. Yes, it would, but not as much as suffering at the hands of more aliens would. Besides, the team needed its leader a lot more than it needed its hotheaded half-breed.

Keith didn’t pay very much attention to their trip through the many intersecting hallways, lost in his head. He only became aware of his surroundings again when they entered a long, narrow room that was lit by torches along the walls and smelled very strongly of something perfumy and definitely not from Earth. Several other Luktorians, all dressed in the same simple white shifts, stood with their hands clasped in front of them, waiting.

His escorts wasted no time in handing him over, holding a brief, whispered conversation with a periwinkle-skinned female before exiting. Periwinkle clapped her hands, and the two that now held his arms, Grey Blue and Sky Blue, pulled him further into the room. He wanted to resist. He wanted to fight and kick and bite and spit so, so badly. All the instincts that he had been cultivating since childhood were shouting in his ear that he should not be letting someone drag him around like this, that he was bound to get hurt soon, but he squashed them back down with one single word.  _ Shiro. _

That almost wasn’t enough once they got to the apparent designated spot and Grey and Sky swiftly began stripping him. The shirt was one thing, but when they went for his belt and pants he panicked. “Hey! No, wait, stop, what are you doing?”

Periwinkle appeared in front of him with one eyebrow arched. “Told was I that a sacrifice quiet, good would be you. A problem there is?”

Keith’s shoulders heaved with shaky breaths.  _ For Shiro. For Shiro. For Shiro.  _ “N-no. No...problem.”

“Good.”

The stripping began again immediately. Clenching his fists and squeezing his eyes shut, he sent his mind somewhere far, far away, somewhere that was bright and happy and no one was touching him without his consent. By the time he had finally gotten his mind occupied, he was stark naked and being prodded forward to the next checkpoint.

**_Paladin. Hurt?_ **

_ No, Red. I’m...I’m okay. _

More Luktorians were waiting for them around an oval-shaped pool of lavender water. As Keith was positioned at the very edge they began chanting something in low voices. He was too busy worrying about what was about to happen to him to try to decipher what they were saying, and with good reason, too. Almost as soon as the chanting began, a set of hands landed on his back and  _ shoved. _

Keith could swim, that wasn’t a problem. The pool wasn’t even deep enough to worry about needing to swim, anyway. But the liquid - probably not water, he now realized - was heavy, and pulled him down to the bottom with no chance of fighting his way up. More importantly, it was  _ scalding.  _ He just barely kept himself from opening his mouth and screaming as his skin burned.

An instant later, multiple hands grabbed his arms and yanked him back up into the cool air. He was in the midst of panting for breath and shaking from pain when he was assaulted again, this time with rough sponges that scoured every inch of his body. It was becoming harder and harder to detach himself from reality, and more tempting every moment to punch every single one of these aliens in the face and race back to the safety of his team.

But he couldn’t. He had to stay for Shiro.

**_Paladin! Come?_ **

_ No, Red. Stay. You can’t come. _

His toes gripped the edge of another pool, this one deep purple, and he at least knew what was coming. More chanting, another shove. This time it was like breaking through an icy lake, making all his muscles seize up instantly. When he was pulled out, he was shivering uncontrollably. 

The chanting continued as some kind of oil was poured from an intricately painted vase over his head, turning his already wet body slick and shiny. Lastly, Periwinkle produced a garland of pungent blue and purple flowers - the source of the perfumy smell - and set it carefully atop his hair.

“Ready the sacrifice is. Us let proceed.”

Just before the procession left the room, Grey and Sky wrapped a strip of silky fabric around his hips and knotted it on one side.  _ Well, I’ll die with some of my dignity intact. At least there’s that. _

The ceremony was apparently taking place in a cathedral-like space. Strange music was playing as they entered, with the Luktorians deep, humming voices singing along. Hundreds of them were gathered, their waving, bobbing heads almost looking like an ocean.

Directly in front of Keith and his parade was a steep set of stairs leading up to a platform. A Luktorian in heavy purple robes with the deepest blue skin he had seen so far stood at the top, looking down on them. They halted at the foot of the stairs. Deep Blue, probably a priest, was saying something, probably initiating the ceremony, but Keith’s heart was pounding too loudly in his ears for him to hear.

Forward again. Up the stairs - eleven total. Counting them kept his mind off of what was coming, even if it was only for a few seconds. Then they were at the top, and the priest was placing a hand on Keith’s head. Even after everything he had been through over the past hour, the touch still made him flinch.

More indecipherable words as his eyes zoned in on the stone structure looming in the background, oval shaped, like the pools.  _ The altar _ . Already he could see orange coals glowing in the open space underneath it, and his breathing kicked into high gear. 

_ Of all the ways to die.  _ The fact that it was idiotic and humiliating was bad enough, but now he knew he would die by fire. Just like his dad. Just like his nightmares since he was six.

_ For Shiro. For Shiro. _

Grey and Sky dragged him forward. He was more resistant now, only because his body was momentarily winning over his mind, but no one seemed to care anymore. They lifted him off his feet, holding him up high and parallel to the ground for only a moment before lowering him down onto the metal grate. 

This time Keith did scream. The metal had been heating over the coals for who knew how long, and it seared into the bare skin of his back. While he was busy blinking back the tears that sprang to his eyes, straps were expertly tightened over his ankles, thighs, chest, biceps, and throat. His arms had been positioned out away from his body, resting in two troughs that angled down toward the lower part of the altar.

**_Paladin hurt. I come._ **

_ Red...Red no. You can’t. I have to do this...I have to. _

A knife flashed in the light over his head and he jumped, jarring the burns on his back. Biting down on his lip, he let out a quiet whine.

**_I come! Paladin needs._ **

_ I...I do need you. But…if you want to help me, then get the others to try to wake their Paladins. You can’t save me until we make sure the others are safe.  _ He didn’t expect it to actually work. Whatever substance the Luktorians had used was probably stronger than a mental bond. But at least maybe it would keep Red occupied, pull her away from having to listen to his panicked thoughts.

The priest was standing over his right side now, the knife he had glimpsed held aloft in his hand. “The sacrifice first now - the blood spilling of.”

Before Keith could think to react, it came swooping down and sliced deep into his wrist. He cried out through gritted teeth. As the priest circled to the other side, he twisted his head as best he could to look down at the damage and saw blood flowing rapidly over his hand and down the trough. A second later, his left wrist was cut open as well.

Already he was growing lightheaded and nauseous. As the priest faced the audience and droned on about who knows what, Keith let his eyes slip shut. 

_ I’m sorry, Shiro. I know you’re gonna be so angry and hurt when you wake up tomorrow. Just remember...I did it because I love you. You’re my brother. _

“The sacrifice second now - the flesh burning of.”

His breath hitched and he pressed his lips together, trying not to make any more pathetic noises, but his rapid breathing gave away his terror. He could hear the  _ clunk  _ of wood echoing below him as more fuel was thrown in, and the crunch of coals being stirred. Mere seconds later, a flame flared, and he sobbed despite his efforts as it licked his already raw back. 

The Luktorians were chanting again, the whole assembly, and they sounded like a hive of bees in his ears. More flames jumped up, higher and higher. He was full-on weeping now, and he didn’t even care. It was so much worse than his nightmares had ever been. He could only hope now that it would consume him quickly, or that the blood loss would take him first.

_ Please...please just let me die… _

**_Paladin! We come!_ **

His eyes flew open just in time to see five beautiful, colorful Lions burst through the roof of the cathedral, mouths wide open in a chorus of ferocious roars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear what you think of this one!


	10. Blood Loss/Trail of Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s fic is one of the shortest, similar to the very first, and it’s a different style than the rest. I was kinda experimenting with this one, going for a kind of “whump aesthetic “ feel, so I’d love to hear what you think! Shout out to @trope-appreciation-tuesdays again, I went looking through the tags for ideas, and even though I didn’t exactly use the “blood on snow” trope that kept getting mentioned, it did inspire me.

**Day 10 - Blood Loss/Trail of Blood**

****Warnings:**** a looooooooot of blood, ambiguous ending

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

Large, spattered drops, starting on the ramp of the Galran pod. Sporadic. One drop here, three there, an empty stretch, then two more. All the way across the floor of the hangar. Smeared, sometimes, like someone had stepped in them after they fell. 

Then a handprint, bright red, marring the entirety of the door’s scanner. A large streak of the same color on the wall right next to it.

The streak continues, out the door and onto the otherwise pristine white wall of the corridor. It becomes two streaks, the large one below and a smaller one up high that starts out looking a bit like another handprint, and eventually fades away. 

The large one doesn’t fade. It does stop, a few feet down the hall, becomes stationary. Leaves long, straight rivulets that end in a small puddle on the marble-like floor. From there the streak plummets, as if painting a rollercoaster hill onto the wall.

Drips again. Smaller this time, but closer together. Most are smeared. They end up looking like arrows, crimson against white, pointing the way down the hall toward the infirmary. The path they mark isn’t straight, though. It wavers, from one side of the corridor, to the middle, back again. A winding path, with tiny, red stepping stones.

The drips are in larger clusters now, lingering together as the pace slows. A new handprint joins in, just above a particularly large spatter. Not far beyond that is another large streak. 

The streak leads directly into a deep red pool.

A pool that is still forming, still spreading slowly from underneath the still form of a boy in a Blade of Marmora suit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me, yell at me, keyboard smash, I don't care, just leave me a comment!


	11. Defiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching it up a little today by seeing things from a new character’s perspective...an alien oc, to be exact! This was actually an idea that I had written down before Whumptober came around, not sure whether I would actually ever getting around to writing it or not, and it came to mind when I saw the theme for today. I did use trope-appreciation-tuesdays for a couple of ideas, too. Hope you enjoy!

**Day 11 - Defiance**

****Warnings:**** restraints, torture, mild blood, broken bones, referenced child abuse, foster home mention, whipping

“Keepabopatikiluzovatica!”

The furred Yrexan winced, already knowing what this conversation was about, before turning to face his friend. “Yes?”

“Keepa, how goes it with our guest?”

He rubbed his elbow, a nervous tick of his, before bending his knees nonchalantly. “About the same, I suppose.”

His friend frowned. “The captain is getting impatient. He wants that information.”

“And he’ll have it!” Keepa protested. “It’s just...well, the creature is stubborn. It does not matter what I do to him, he does not seem to care.”

“Well, then, perhaps you should do more. Or perhaps someone else should take over the job.”

“I have it under control,” Keepa snapped, baring his teeth. “I’m the enforcer of this team, am I not? Just have patience.”

He turned and stormed off, heading directly to the prison area of the ship. In truth, he really didn’t feel like he had this situation under control. He had joined this band of rogues and thieves under the impression that he’d be strong-arming those who owed them GAC, maybe occasionally giving someone a good beat down if required. He could do that. He was good at it. 

What he hadn’t expected to be doing was extracting information from a prisoner who happened to be the most stubborn creature he had ever come across. Anyone else, Yrexan or otherwise, would have been spilling out every bit of information they knew by that time. 

But not this boy. Not anywhere near it. Reaching his cell, Keepa paused outside and watched for a moment, unnoticed. He was a strange looking creature. Virtually hairless other than the top of his head, where fur grew long and untamed, nothing like the well-kept fur of a Yrexan. And his body was so unnaturally pale, it was as if something had sucked all of the color up into his far too dark eyes and hair. Skinny, too. Far too easy to break...or so Keepa had thought upon first seeing him.

The first day, the boy had been asked very politely to share information on where the rest of his team, the legendary Voltron, was located. They had their hands on one paladin now, yes, and his lion, too, but Emperor Zarkon - may he reign forever - wanted all of Voltron, and would pay untold riches for it. He, of course, had refused to tell them, refused to even speak, in fact. That was not entirely unexpected. 

That was when Keepa had taken over. He had given him his classic beat down, complete with plenty of blood pouring from the boy’s nose and lip, and possibly a few cracks in his more delicate bones. Any moment now, he had thought, any moment he will beg me to stop, say that he will tell me everything. 

But the begging never came. When Keepa finished his work and stood back, the boy had painstakingly levered himself up off the floor, swiped the back of his hand through the stream of blood on his upper lip, and spat out a wad of red-tinged saliva at Keepa’s feet. 

“Are you ready to talk?” Keepa had demanded.

And the boy had smiled.  _ Smiled _ , with blood-stained teeth, and huffed a breathy sound that was possibly a laugh. “Griffin’s cronies hit a lot harder than you do.”

As if Keepa was supposed to have any idea what that meant! He wanted to ask what in the stars a griffin or a crony was, but instead he just stared incredulously, not knowing what to make of this blood-stained creature, before mumbling something like, “I’ll be back,” and retreating from the room.

The next day he had been a bit more prepared. He repeated the beating, knowing it would hurt even more on an already sore body. The fascinating blue and purple spots that decorated the pale skin from the day before were evidence that the boy was not, in fact, invincible, just apparently more resilient than most. Still, he wasn’t nearly as surprised that time when he finished and was spoken to in that casual voice again.

“You know…” The boy didn’t bother getting up this time, remaining on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I had this one foster…whenever I would get into fights at school, I’d always come out on top. But when I got home and he found out I’d been in another fight he’d beat me himself. Couldn’t fight back against him. So it didn’t really matter how much damage the other kids did, ‘cause he was always gonna make it three times worse.”

Keepa merely stood and blinked, unmoving, before turning and leaving without a word. Clearly beating was not going to work. That was the message, he supposed, behind the creature’s rambling. He’d have to come up with something more...creative.

So the following day, Keepa had marched into the cell with a mission, snatching up the arm that wasn’t chained to the wall and holding it tightly at the wrist and elbow. 

“Tell me where to find the rest of Voltron, or I will break your arm in two.” It sounded very threatening. There was no doubt that he meant what he said.

So he was once again taken aback when the boy laughed aloud. It was a short laugh, and wheezed a bit, no doubt because of his injured chest, but it was a laugh, nonetheless. “That...that’s your plan?”

Now Keepa felt he was being ridiculed. Growling, he made good on his word and brought the arm down over his knee. It broke with a loud crack. The boy screamed, doubling over to let out a continuous stream of pained noises through his teeth.

This, he thought, was hopeful. Not once during the two beatings had the creature made a single sound, but this had obviously affected him. Now he would break for sure.

The boy let out one more long moan, then grunted, “Quiznak.”

Yes, Keepa wanted to say, tell me, tell me!

“I’ve officially lost count of how many bones I’ve broken.”

“What?” The response was out his mouth before he could stop it.

The boy straightened, wincing as he did so, and tucked the injured arm gingerly into his abdomen. “It’s been so long since I last broke one. I knew how many it was before, but now I’ve forgotten. I can tell you how many times this particular arm has been broken, though.”

“H-how many?”

“This makes three. Once was my fault, I fell out of a tree. The other time was that one foster, you know the one I was telling you about?”

Keepa had left the room before he could go any further. What kind of creature was this? And were all the people of his planet so used to violence? 

Now, standing outside the cell on day four, Keepa gathered his determination. He wasn’t going to let his previous failures deter him. He  _ would  _ get that information for his captain, no matter what it took. Unlocking the door, he strode confidently into the room, snatching the creature up by his broken arm, which of course elicited a cry of pain. He made swift work of shackling that free hand to the opposite corner, leaving the boy’s back toward him. 

Retrieving the leather strap that hung at his waist, he readied himself. “All you have to do is tell me the information I seek, and this will stop.”

The strap cracked across the boy’s shoulders, and he jolted but did not make a sound. Keepa brought it down again, and again. The creature was wearing a black suit of some kind, but he knew that even through that the strap would sting. Soon enough, the fabric couldn’t even hold up any longer. It began splitting under each impact, leaving bright red welts behind that stood out against the pale skin. Still the boy stood his ground. 

Keepa’s arm was growing tired, but his frustration was stronger. He kept going until he drew blood, and still he did not quit. By the time the boy finally slumped forward, collapsing to his knees on the ground, the back of his suit was completely shredded, and criss-crossing bloody lines were everywhere.

Panting, Keepa dropped his arm down by his side, rolling his shoulder a few times. Then he stepped over one of the chains and stooped down to look the creature in the face. Unconscious. Of course he was. All of that, and he still hadn’t done any more than grunt.

He unshackled the wrist of the broken arm and allowed the boy to fall the rest of the way to the floor, then leaned against the wall and waited for him to wake. When he did, it was with a groan, and he rolled over as quickly as possible to get off his ruined back.

“Are you ready to talk now?”

Silence. Then a pained, “No.”

Keepa nearly shouted in aggravation. “Don’t tell me that you’ve had experience with this, too!”

The boy continued staring at the wall in front of him, talking much quieter than usual. “Would you believe me if I did?”

He couldn’t be serious. “Let me guess, this ‘foster’ that you keep speaking of?”

The creature hummed a little. “No, actually it was a different one. A woman. She was a psychopath.” He shifted a bit and grimaced. “Been a while, though. Kinda forgot...how much it hurts.”

Standing up straight, Keepa waved his arms in the air. “Yes, it hurts! All of it hurts! I  _ know  _ that you are in pain, you can barely even move. You haven’t had anything to eat since you got here, either, so you  _ must  _ be hungry. It’s been four days.”

“Haven’t broken my record yet, then.”

Keepa groaned. “My point is, maybe you have experienced all of these things before, but that does not mean that you aren’t in pain now. Why do you continue to resist? Why won’t you help yourself?”

“Because,” the boy growled, suddenly sounding like a completely different creature. He slowly, painfully pushed himself up so that he could level a fierce glare at Keepa. “I don’t care about  _ helping myself. _ I care about  _ protecting my friends.  _ If all those fosters beating the heck out of me couldn’t even make me call my social worker, then I can assure you, nothing you can do to me is ever going to make me rat out my friends. Doesn’t matter if I have experience with it or not.  _ I won’t do it. _ ”

  
For a long moment they just stared at one another. Keepa had never met someone so...so  _ loyal _ , in his entire career. In his experience, everyone had a breaking point, no matter what they had to give up, and usually they did not have to be pushed very far. But this boy...suddenly he had a distinct feeling that he was telling the absolute truth, and that he never would get anything from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keepabopatikiluzovatica is definitely the longest alien name I've come up with so far haha! I love the comments, keep 'em coming!


	12. Broken Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s post is another one that’s 99% emotional whump. Disclaimer - I promise I like Shiro...at least season 1 and 2 Shiro. It’s Kuron, or whatever you want to call his clone, that I like to make the bad guy.

**Day 12 - Broken Trust**

****Warnings:**** emotional abuse, non-graphic mention of pre-existing injuries, death mention, referenced child abuse, metaphoric gore

It started off small.

“Backseat team leading”, was how Lance had referred to it. He had actually sounded pretty concerned, despite his joking tone, and Keith had appreciated it, he really had. There had been a time not that long ago when Lance would have been making fun of him for getting his ideas shot down. The change in their relationship was not something he was going to take for granted. 

But it wasn’t that big of a deal, and he told Lance as much. Shiro had always been a better team leader than he would ever be, no matter how much he had improved since the start. Yes, the way he was going about this was a little...aggravating, but Keith had always been too easily aggravated and was trying to get better at that.

And yeah, it hurt a little, having his plans ridiculed. But that was just his ego getting bruised, so he could ignore that, too.

Mostly it was just surprising. After all, Shiro had been the one to insist he should lead, and he had always been so supportive of him no matter what he tried to take on. So he had expected a bit more support, a bit less...usurping. 

He couldn’t fault Shiro for it, though. If he had been rejected by his Lion, he’d probably be feeling the need to insert himself wherever he could, too. That had to have hurt. Plus he had just gotten back from being captured by the Galra  _ again _ , and that was bound to change a person.

In the end, the truth was that he needed the guidance, however forcefully it was given. Shiro was always right.

What bothered him a little more was when Shiro started to take issue with his Blade missions.  _ Everyone  _ was taking issue with his Blade missions, actually, and that was reasonable. His attention was divided, he knew that. 

It was just that Voltron had lately become more advertisement and relief efforts than anything else, while the Blade was still out there actually fighting the Empire. Both were important. He knew that. But he felt more  _ useful _ when he was with the Blades. Putting on shows and interacting with Coalition members was not his forte. He was a fighter. That’s what he did best. 

Plus, there was the added benefit of getting to know more about his Galra roots, which he would never use as an excuse to the others, especially Allura, but it was true. He would never  _ ever  _ tell them that part of his reason for being with the Blades was to hopefully learn something about his mother. That would just be seen as selfish, and maybe it was. 

He’d thought Shiro would be the one to understand all of that, though. Shiro always seemed to know everything that was going through his head without him having to say it. Or at least, the old Shiro had. This Shiro either didn’t know, or...or didn’t care. 

“Where were you today?”

Keith stopped short, blinking in exhaustion at the man who was standing with crossed arms outside his bedroom door. Waiting for him. Waiting to interrogate him before he could retreat to nurse his wounds in the safety of his bed.

“Blade mission.”

He could have sworn that Shiro nearly rolled his eyes at the obvious answer. The old Shiro never rolled his eyes unless it was at a lame joke. “Was it important?”

_ If it wasn’t important, then why would I have gone?  _ “I...yeah. There was this intel -”

Shiro held up a hand to stop him. The old Shiro never interrupted him. Not when it had taken over a month for Keith to speak more than a few words to him. 

“We needed you on Olkarion today.”

“Did…did the supply hand out not go well?”

“It went fine.” The answer was curt. “But another set of hands would have made it go much better.”

Keith just stared blankly for a long moment, a hundred thoughts flying through his head. 

He wanted to say,  _ you had six people plus all of the Olkari. _

He wanted to say,  _ all you were doing was handing out boxes.  _

He wanted to say,  _ the intel we got could potentially free another entire planet. _

He wanted to say,  _ why don’t you want me to be where I’m actually the most helpful? _

He wanted to say,  _ I almost died today. _

But instead, he licked his chapped lips, stared down at the floor, and said, “I’m sorry.”

Shiro sighed heavily. It was his disappointed sigh, the one the old Shiro only ever used when he got into fights or sassed his teachers. “I don’t understand you lately. You’re the  _ leader of Voltron,  _ but we can’t even count on you to show up for something as simple and important as giving relief to survivors.”

He wanted to say,  _ am I the leader? Because I don’t feel like I’ve been allowed to do much leading. _

He wanted to say,  _ I promise you can count on me to show up when I’m actually needed. _

He wanted to say,  _ I don’t understand you lately, either.  _

“I’ll try to do better.”

Shiro straightened, leaving his arms crossed. “Yeah.” His tone was dry and cold in a way that the old Shiro’s never was. “You need to.”

Then he turned on his heel and left, without a goodnight, without a smile, without acknowledging the way that Keith was obviously favoring his left leg and hugging one arm to himself. 

It hurt.

But he was right. He needed to be there for his team.

Shiro was always right. 

There wasn’t anyone else in the universe that he would say that about. But he believed it about Shiro, because Shiro had earned it. Keith didn’t trust anybody when they met, kids or adults, but Shiro was the only person who had ever bothered sticking around long enough to actually convince Keith he was different. He believed in him, which was a first. He allowed him to have opinions and feelings and to share them without fearing he would be belittled. He looked past the “problem child” exterior and found the boy hiding underneath. 

So eventually, after a long, long time of working on opening up, Keith decided that he believed whatever Shiro had to say. All of his advice had been good, however loathe he had been to admit that at first. In the end, he had started going to Shiro for his opinions on almost everything, and that led after an even longer while to going to him when he needed to talk about other, more personal things.

Shiro knew things about him that no one else knew, things that as far as Keith was concerned, no one else would ever know. He had earned that. Keith trusted him.

Which is why he was too stunned at Shiro’s outburst during group training to even feel the hurt to begin with.

“Keith. You have to protect your teammates. Just because you grew up being used as a punching bag by all your foster parents doesn’t mean that the rest of us are used to getting beat up.”

The room dropped into dead silence. Keith's heart was pounding so fast it was all he could hear or feel. 

Nobody was supposed to know about his past. Shiro knew that. Nobody had even been told that he was a foster kid, and that’s the way Keith wanted it to stay. Shiro  _ knew  _ that. 

“Um...Shiro?” It was Lance that finally spoke up, because of course it was. “I...um...think...maybe...that kind of thing is...something  _ Keith  _ should tell us?  _ If  _ he...wanted to, you know?”

But no, he shouldn’t be questioning Shiro. Shiro was their leader, and Shiro was always right. There  _ had  _ to be some good reason for him to be breaking Keith’s confidence at that moment...right?

It didn’t feel like there was a good reason.

It felt like someone had reached in and ripped his intestines out and left a big, gaping hole. 

Half the team was gaping at him, the other half at Shiro. No one else seemed to know what to say.

That is, until Allura spoke up.  _ Allura,  _ of all people, who had hated him not that long ago and still sometimes regarded him warily. 

“Erm, yes. I...feel that was out of line, Shiro.”

“Hm?” Shiro looked genuinely surprised, as if he had no clue what he had even done. No clue that Keith was standing there gutted, waiting for either himself or the rest of the room to crumble into dust. 

Because this couldn’t be real. Shiro couldn’t possibly have just said what he said. 

“Oh, yeah. I guess you’re right. Sorry, Keith.”

But he wasn’t. 

He  _ wasn’t.  _

The apology was thrown flippantly in his direction, no eye contact, no sincerity. The old Shiro didn’t apologize like that. The old Shiro would have been begging for his forgiveness as soon as he realized his mistake, with careful hands on his shoulders and maybe even tears in his eyes. 

The old Shiro  _ cared.  _

Suddenly Keith wasn’t sure whether any of this had to do with his time with the Galra and his Lion’s rejection. Those things couldn’t make a person turn their back on a friend, a  _ brother _ ...could they? 

Maybe he had done something to earn Shiro’s hatred. 

Maybe Shiro had never actually loved him to begin with.

He was turning and leaving the room before he fully realized what he was doing, but the cries of his name didn’t stop him. Not even the knowledge that he was disappointing Shiro,  _ again _ , stopped him.

He didn’t care anymore. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Shiro wasn’t always right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Keith. Let me know what you think!


	13. Chemical Pneumonia/Oxygen Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve got another POV change today, this time to Lance! Gotta give not only my semi-regular shout out to @trope-appreciation-tuesdays for providing inspiration, but also a special shout out to the mod @the-wandering-whumper since they have declared two different tropes used here to be “their jam”. ;) Don’t expect the chemical pneumonia part of this to be medically accurate haha. This is called science fiction for a reason.

**Day 13 - Chemical Pneumonia/Oxygen Mask**

**Warnings:** death mention, respiratory distress, needles

The Yadselites were brilliant scientists. Pidge and Hunk had been in their element all day, oohing and aahing and making googoo eyes over all the equipment and experiments they were being shown.

Lance? He was the  _ opposite  _ of in his element. Sure, some of that stuff was pretty interesting, once someone,  _ anyone _ , bothered to explain to him in plain English what the heck they even did. But most of the day had been a whole lot of science-speak that he only understood every five words of, and he had zoned out so many times that he was about to fall asleep.

“So, it’s a gas that does...what exactly?” Shiro asked. At least he wasn’t the only one who didn’t get the techno-babble speak. 

Pidge pushed her glasses back up on her nose with one finger. “It incapacitates the Galra. Basically it’s like throwing in a smoke bomb before the SWAT team goes in.”

“Yeah but this doesn’t just make their eyes water,” Hunk added. “Sounds like by the time you got in there every Galra would just be lying on the floor.”

“Dead?” Shiro sounded a mix of fascinated and horrified.

“No, no,” their tour guide, Rokuba, assured in that perpetual soothing tone that was part of the reason why Lance was falling asleep. “Only, as your Green Paladin says, incapacitated.”

“So it would, like, do our work for us? I’m okay with that.” It wasn’t like he  _ minded  _ how difficult his job was. He just wouldn’t mind if it was a little  _ less  _ difficult. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Keith had taken a few steps backwards away from the group. Oh. Right. Galra-incapacitating gas, half-Galra Mullet. He’d probably be a little nervous, too, if it were him.

“Is it safe for other species...humans, for example?”

“Oh yes, very,” Rokuda smiled. “The gas targets a very specific combination of genes that are only found in Galran DNA. For humans, Yadselites, and all other species, there is only a light, sweet smell.” She reached for the canister. “If you will allow me to demonstrate…”

Before Lance - or apparently anyone else - could even think to protest, a flowery-smelling mist erupted into the air. Shiro and Hunk both shouted and lunged for the canister. Lance spun around to face Keith, who had clapped a hand over his nose and mouth and was staring at the gas in wide-eyed panic.

Then Pidge was bodily shoving him out of the lab, everyone following close behind while Rokuda stammered out multiple apologies. Ignoring her, Shiro shoved his way forward and clapped his hands onto Keith’s shoulders. 

“Keith! Keith, talk to me. Are you okay?”

Keith coughed. 

But it wasn’t, like, a terrible sounding cough. Just pretty much your typical “I have a tickle in my throat” cough, not one that seemed like he was about to keel over and die. 

Slowly, he lowered his hand, swallowing visibly. “I...I definitely inhaled some. But...I think I’m okay?”

They all let out a collective sigh of relief, despite the fact that he didn’t sound all that sure. He wasn’t choking or falling over, so that was as good of a sign as any. 

“Dude,” Hunk groaned. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Keith’s nose wrinkled and he looked as if he was about to protest that it wasn’t his fault, but Pidge interrupted. “Either you didn’t inhale enough to do any damage, or you don’t carry all of the right genes for it to affect you.”

“It could be either,” Rokuda offered. “We have not yet tested the effects of a minuscule amount, or on any species mixed with Galra. Again, I apologize greatly, your heritage momentarily slipped my mind.”

Shiro gave her a tight smile. “Well, he seems to be alright, so that’s what matters.”

The tour continued. Vargas passed, or at least it felt that long. By the time they finally,  _ finally _ got back to the Castle, Lance had completely forgotten about the incident with the gas. 

Everyone gathered at the bridge so that Allura could lecture...ahem,  _ brief _ them on the diplomatic meeting they’d be having the next day. Lance and Keith were standing side by side, the former tapping his foot rapidly, about to have a nervous breakdown if the Mullet cleared his throat  _ one more time. _

And of course, he did.

“Dude!” Lance exploded, throwing his hands up in the air. “Stop it with the throat clearing already! What is your problem?”

Keith’s eyebrows knitted together, and he raised one hand to his neck. “Sorry. My throat is just…” He covered his mouth with his jacket sleeve and coughed. 

“Our briefing is almost done, and then perhaps you should drink a hydration pouch,” Allura suggested. “However, it will be much easier for me to finish if there are no more interruptions.”

“Sorry,” both boys mumbled in unison.

They fell quiet as Allura resumed, not even any more throat clearing from Keith, though it kinda sounded like he was having to try really hard not to. The breaths he was pulling through his nose were loud and extremely deliberate. Lance was torn between still being annoyed and starting to be concerned, but leaned definitively more toward concerned once his breathing began to stutter both in and out.

Shooting glances out of the corner of his eye, Lance pressed his lips together and wondered if Keith was somehow even paler than usual. There was a strained look on his face, and Lance was debating whether or not he should interrupt again to ask if he was okay when Keith lost his battle to hold everything in and burst into a coughing fit.

The rest of the room fell silent as he doubled over, sounding like he was about to hack up a lung into his sleeve. Shiro crossed to him and rested a hand on his upper back.

“You okay, bud?”

Keith nodded through the last of the coughs, then straightened and swiped his hand across his eyes. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Sorry. ‘m fine.” He sucked in another labored breath, and coughed once more.

Coran edged his way toward the door. “Perhaps I should go get you that hydration pouch now.”

“Yes, please,” Shiro answered for him. 

“Sorry, ‘llura. You can -” Keith tried to draw another breath, but it seemed to get stuck in his throat and sent him into another coughing fit.

“Would you quit trying to talk?” Lance protested. “You’re clearly not okay right now.”

“‘m fine,” he whispered, but then his eyes went wide and he froze, his mouth hanging open as if to gasp in more air but the sound of his heavy breaths had completely stopped.

“Keith? Keith!” Shiro shook his shoulder. “Hey, look at me, what’s going on?”

Without further warning, Keith listed to the side, stumbling a few steps until he was falling practically into Lance’s arms. He scrambled to catch him before he slammed into the ground, though they both went down in the process.

“What the heck, Mullet?” Lance would never admit it to anyone, but he was scared. Keith’s head was laying on his shoulder, the rest of his body sprawled out inelegantly in his lap, and his eyes and mouth were still open wide. This close he could just barely make out a faint gurgling noise coming from the back of his throat. 

Lance snapped his attention up to Shiro, who was crouched next to them. “He’s not breathing. Shiro, he’s not breathing!”

Their leader bent over with his ear next to Keith’s face, then suddenly scooped him up off of Lance, standing and immediately breaking into a run. The others followed, looking just as alarmed as Lance felt. 

“What’s going on?” Allura demanded.

“I don’t know,” Lance replied, “but he needs the infirmary, now. Page Coran!”

He was close on Shiro’s heels when they entered the infirmary and Keith was dropped down onto a cot. His lips had taken on a blue tint, and he was  _ definitely  _ paler than usual this time. Hovering over him, Lance waved his hands around frantically, desperate for something to do to help but unable to think anything past,  _ he’s not breathing he’s not breathing he’s not breathing. _

“Here!” Pidge launched herself into his field of vision with something in her hands that she slapped down over Keith’s nose and mouth. An oxygen mask. Lance felt an inkling of relief at seeing the device, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear.

“His throat, though. His throat was...if it was closed up, then he still won’t -”

“I know.” Shiro’s voice was terse, all his attention focused on the boy who might as well be his brother. He stroked his human hand through Keith’s messy black hair, pressing his bangs back from his forehead. “I know. But I don’t...we need Coran in here.”

“He’s on his way,” Allura assured.

“I’m here!” The advisor burst into the room with all his usual gusto, and Lance felt his chest loosen the tiniest bit. Immediately snatching up the scanner, Coran frowned and mumbled to himself as he waved it over Keith’s prone body. After examining the screen for only a tick, he spun around and pointed at a cabinet against the far wall. “Number Five, I need an injection of stavunairalducord!”

As the only one of the humans who could read Altean, Pidge accepted her assignment right away and dashed to the cabinet, rummaging until she found the correct item and bringing it back to Coran just as quickly.

“Thank you, Number Five.” Twirling the needle around in nimble fingers, he popped off the cap and plunged it none too gently into the side of Keith’s neck. Lance flinched and cut his eyes away.

“What is that? What are you doing?” Shiro demanded.

“Number Four has extreme swelling in his throat and lungs, preventing air from passing through. This injection will begin to take the swelling down while we prep him to go into the healing pod.”

Sure enough, as Lance watched, Keith’s chest began rising and falling again, almost imperceptibly. Behind the oxygen mask his mouth relaxed, and his eyes fluttered shut as if in pure joy of being able to breathe. Shiro slumped a bit when he saw the reaction, though his hand never stopped carding through the black hair.

“What does he need the pod for?” Hunk asked, wringing his hands together.

Coran was already methodically beginning to remove Keith’s jacket and gloves. “To clear out the foreign substance that caused this reaction, and also to heal the damage that it caused. Whatever it is, it seems to have started eating away at the lining of his lungs.”

“Foreign substance?” Lance echoed.

Pidge gasped. “The Yadselites’ gas! You know, the...anti-Galra stuff!”

Groaning, Shiro dropped his forehead into his hand. “How could I have forgotten? But I never expected it to take this long to have an effect. I should have brought him back to get checked out right away.”

“He seemed fine, though,” Pidge offered. “It must have something to do with him only being half, or because it was just a tiny amount.”

Coran hummed. “Well, whichever it is, it’s a nasty little bugger. I’d hate to see what would have happened if he had inhaled any more.”

“Is he...gonna be okay?”

Lance had been almost certain that Keith had lost consciousness by that point, but his eyes slitted open then and found Lance’s. His hand twitched, and Lance glanced down to see him giving a weak thumbs up.

Coran chuckled. “Yes, I think he’ll be just fine. That is, if we get him into that pod as soon as we can, so let’s give him some privacy to get changed, shall we?”

Hunk ushered everyone out of the room, eager to let Keith start healing. Lance kept looking back over his shoulder at the pale, still figure on the bed. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be relaxing at all until the Mullet was up on his feet and throwing jabs at him again. The feeling of him collapsing into his arms and the sound of his struggles to breathe would be sticking with him for a long time to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for hopeful endings! Drop me a line...or a word...or a few paragraphs!


	14. Branding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an excerpt from a full-length fic that I plan on writing someday, an AU that begins at the episode “The Black Paladins”. Shorter than most of the rest, but not too super short. Pay attention to the warnings and enjoy!

**Day 14 - Branding**

**Warnings:** restraints, implied torture, blood, gore, creepy/intimate whumper, burns, ambiguous ending

“So pathetic. I honestly don’t know what the High Priestess sees in you.”

Fingers trailed across his shredded, bloody back, and Keith keened, jerking in his restraints. The man behind him sneered. 

“I don’t know what  _ he  _ saw in you, either.” 

Bright magenta eyes veered into his vision,  _ close _ , and he flinched back. The chains holding his arms high above his head brought him right back, though, right up to those wrong,  _ wrong  _ eyes. 

“He was pathetic, too. Weak. The High Priestess has made me so much stronger than your precious  _ Shiro  _ ever was.”

Keith’s throat was so raw from days of screaming that he wasn’t sure he could ever speak correctly again, but he somehow forced out the words, anyway. “You’re not even...half the man that Shiro was.”

The clone - Kuron, as Haggar had been calling him - merely hummed in response, reaching up with his Galran hand to stroke his thumb over the sensitive hollow of Keith’s neck. He swallowed, his breaths coming faster through his nose. With Kuron, any movement could go from harmless to excruciating in an instant. He was well aware of that by now. 

Sure enough, the stroking soon turned into pressure, the metal thumb digging in hard until Keith gagged. Kuron left it for a moment longer, then released him with a huffed laugh.

“You have so many fond memories of him. So many moments that you cling to. High Priestess Haggar has seen it, in your mind. All those pitiful little things that he taught you, all that time you spent together.” The metal hand came up again, clamping around Keith’s throat as if to choke him, but without squeezing...yet. “I think I’d like to leave you with something, too. Something that you’ll always have, to remember me by.”

Before Keith could wonder what he might mean, the metal began to heat up. First pleasantly warm, but moving very quickly into far too warm, and then he was screaming again. It was  _ agony _ . Having that heat held a few inches from his face had hurt badly enough, still hurt even days later, but this… His vision whited out, his voice finally giving out altogether, though his mouth remained open in a silent scream.

An eternity went by before the hand started to cool. Keith’s senses came back to him little by little, and he struggled to get his feet back up under him as Kuron’s smiling face came into focus. The air reeked of burnt flesh. Kuron peeled his hand off, ripping away multiple layers of ruined skin with it, and Keith’s knees buckled again.

The clone looked down at his hand and wrinkled his nose. “Gross.” Keith was nearly too busy with a vicious cycle of retching at the pain, which caused even more pain, which brought on more retching, to notice him wipe the offending palm off on his pants.

As Keith tried his best to remember how to breathe past the searing burn, Kuron leaned in and swiped his flesh fingers across the inflamed skin. Keith let out a strangled noise and tried not to start retching again.

“Beautiful,” Kuron whispered. “It’s perfect. Now you’ll have no choice but to always remember me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who would be interested in seeing more of this AU someday?


	15. Magical Healing/Science Gone Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t think of anything to say about this one haha, other than it has a good ending and was an interesting change of pace for me to write. Make sure you check the warnings, as always!

**Day 15 - Magical Healing/Science Gone Wrong**

**Warnings:** claustrophobia, blood, broken bones, mild body horror, mild gore, mild eye trauma (super mild, because eye trauma is a personal squick)

Keith had never had to go into a pod before. He had gotten plenty of bumps and bruises during his time in space, and even a few more serious wounds, but never anything bad enough that he couldn’t patch it up himself. He had gotten pretty good at self first aid over the course of his life, especially while living in the desert. 

And he was pretty happy about that. The thought of being locked in a pod, unconscious, completely helpless and unaware of what was happening to him and around him, made his stomach roll a bit. Obviously he’d never tell anybody that he was...not scared, definitely not scared, but... _ nervous  _ about using a pod. That was something he’d just keep to himself.

But now...now he had no choice. And honestly, he didn’t care. He was in so much pain, so disoriented, that he just let everybody strip off his clothes, wrestle him into a pod suit, and usher him straight to the pod without even a word of protest.

He had taken on a Galra commander by himself. He wasn’t too proud to admit that he had lost miserably. The commander was huge, and he had managed to get a hold of Keith, wrapping one of his ginormous hands around his entire waist, before slamming him into a nearby wall. Repeatedly. 

Pretty much everything on the right side of his body was broken and/or bleeding. Including his poor, cracked armor. His helmet had been knocked off, so his skull had taken plenty of damage, with blood still pouring down and sticking his eye shut even while the pod was prepped. He was pretty sure something in his face was broken, too. Maybe more than one something. It was difficult to separate one pain from another.

“Alright, lad, in you go.” 

Keith barely held in a yell as he was lifted in, managing to stifle it to a strangled groan. 

“I know bud, I know.” Shiro gave him a tight, worried smile. “You’ll just go right to sleep now, and next thing you know you’ll feel all better. Promise.” 

There was a momentary flutter in his stomach at the thought, but the idea of sleeping and no longer being in pain won out over his apprehension. As the glass slid shut, his other eye did, too.

He felt the blast of cold that filled the chamber. 

He felt his body succumb to the gas that froze him in place. 

He didn’t fall asleep.

_ Any second now,  _ he kept thinking.  _ It’ll happen soon. There’s just a little delay that no one mentioned. Maybe they didn’t remember. I probably won’t remember any of this later, either. _

But the longer his body remained paralyzed and his brain aware, the more panicked he became. And then the healing began.

You’d think that would be a good thing. Healing takes away the pain, right? 

The first thing to start was his head. He hadn’t been aware that the pain there could get any more intense until it did. Bone fragments started shifting, locking themselves back into place, and he could  _ feel  _ every little bit of it. He could feel the broken skin beginning to knit itself together, millimeter by millimeter.

He wanted to throw up. He couldn’t. His body remained passive and completely out of his control, not responding in the least to his racing thoughts.

_ Why why why why why why why why why why why why why is this happening why did no one say this would happen this isn’t supposed to happen is it this doesn’t make any sense it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts make it stop please make it stop Shiro help me get me out of here make it stop make it stop _

But his body remained still through it all. He couldn’t twitch a finger, couldn’t open his eyes so that the others would know he was still awake. Were they still watching? Did they have any idea that something was wrong? For all he knew, he was alone, and he wouldn’t be released from this nightmare until everything was healed.

Ribs were next. They slid slowly back into place, grinding against each other, slicing through muscle and tissue on their way. It hurt worse than anything he could have imagined. 

His arm and shoulder healed simultaneously, but still took an eternity. That was the worst part, how agonizingly slowly everything went. A doctor setting a bone worked quickly. There was pain, yes, but it was a sharp spike followed by relief. This went on for ages, healing every little crack and tear along the way as each bone was dragged back to where it belonged.

The only thing worse than that was not even being able to scream.

He hadn’t even realized anything was wrong with his knee until that got twisted and pulled straight again. The very last thing to heal was his face, starting with the bones in his cheek and around his eye, and ending with the eye itself, which was less excruciating in the pain sense and more in the fact that it felt like  _ something  _ was in his eye, pulling and probing and scratching, and he couldn’t even lift his hand to rub at it.

The good news about the whole process was that once something was healed, the pain did ease, leaving him with less areas hurting than before.

But rather than feeling like a mere tick had gone by, he was aware of every single tick that passed for the entire two quintants that he was in the pod.

When the glass finally,  _ finally  _ opened and he stumbled out into Shiro’s waiting arms, the first thing he did was open his eyes as wide as they could go, and open his mouth to suck in a lungful of fresh air. His body was his again. He could  _ move. _

The second thing he did was slump boneless to the floor, not even Shiro able to keep him upright. He buried his face into his arms to hide the tears that spilled over without his permission, but that did nothing for the way his entire body trembled and for the gasping sobs that escaped.

“Whoa, Keith! What’s the matter? Are you still hurt?” Shiro’s hands grasped his arms gently. “Talk to me, bud, what is it?”

He tried his best to get himself under control, hating the fact that he was breaking apart in front of everybody. The others probably didn’t even think he was capable of crying before then. Lifting his head slightly, he wiped his face with the sleeve of the pod suit, then dropped his forehead back down onto his arms. 

“I-it…” He swallowed. “It was  _ awful. _ ”

“What do you mean?” He could hear the frown in Shiro’s voice. “What was awful?”

“The p-pod.”

A hand slid into his hair, cupping the back of his head. “I don’t understand, bud.”

“I was awake.  _ The whole time. _ ” 

Silence. Then, “ _ What? _ ”

Coran’s voice broke into the conversation. “That’s not possible. The first thing a healing pod does is to cryo-freeze its occupant. We saw it working ourselves!”

“It  _ did  _ freeze my body.” Keith looked up finally, but couldn’t quite bring himself to meet any of the several gazes that were on him. “Otherwise I would have been banging on the glass for someone to get me out of there. I couldn’t...I couldn’t move. But I was awake.” For a while he had wondered if it was the same for everyone, if Shiro and Lance had refrained from telling him, knowing that he wouldn’t want to go in. But eventually he had convinced himself that Shiro wouldn’t do that to him, and it seemed he was right.

“You’re telling us,” Shiro began slowly, “that you’ve been completely awake and aware for  _ two days _ , unable to move, while the pod healed all of those broken bones and everything?”

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“That shouldn’t be possible!” Coran repeated. “I’ve never heard of anything like it before! I can’t imagine...unless…” He broke off into unintelligible mumbling, crossing to the pod’s data screen and poking at it.

Hunk was next to speak up. “Keith...that sounds... _ terrifying. _ ”

Gritting his teeth, he tried for a small smile. “Yeah, it...it was.” His brows pulled down. “I could feel all of it. All the bones moving, the skin and muscles and whatever going back together…” He shuddered, and if he wasn’t mistaken, nearly everyone else in the room did, too. “I don’t ever want to go back in a pod again.”

Coran cleared his throat. “My boy, I’m afraid I have quite an apology to make.” Keith looked up to see the advisor facing him again, but staring down at his feet. “It’s, uh...well, we’ve never had someone of...mixed species use the healing pods before.”

Keith shut his eyes. Of course. Of  _ course _ it would come back to his Galra heritage.

“The data here indicates that the pod recognized you only as human, since it appears that most of your anatomy is, in fact, human. But the failure to account for the rest of your DNA is apparently where things went wrong. It obviously caused you great distress, and probably great pain, and...I’m  _ terribly  _ sorry, my boy. I should have taken more time to ensure that everything was set correctly at the beginning.”

“It’s not your fault, Coran,” Pidge interrupted before Keith could open his mouth to say the same exact thing. She had shimmied her way between the advisor and the screen and was bending over it, the light reflecting off of her glasses. “This thing literally has no clue how to deal with mixed species.” Looking over her shoulder at Keith, she smiled. “We’ll work on that, starting right now.”

“Well, still.” Coran twiddled with his moustache nervously. “I should have known that already. I should have had it ready for Number Four  _ before  _ he needed it.”

“It’s alright. I forgive you.” Keith mustered a smile, and Coran returned it brightly.

“Thank you, lad. Well, Number Five, are you ready to get tinkering?”

Pidge immediately launched into a longwinded explanation of her thoughts for the project, and Hunk quickly joined in. Shiro wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulders and pulled him in close. 

“I’m really sorry you had to go through that. Looks like these three will have it all fixed for you if you ever need to go in again, though.”

Keith tensed, glancing up at the still looming pod and swallowing hard. “Yeah. Well...I’m gonna...try really hard to  _ not  _ need it again.”

Shiro squeezed him tighter. “That’s a good idea, regardless.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop me a line and tell me what you think!


	16. Hallucinations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though the events in today’s fic are caused by physical whump, it ends up being mostly emotional whump, and the darkest emotionally so far. Please do not read without checking the warnings first. Some things are blatantly stated, while others are heavily hinted at and left to the imagination, but either way it’s heavy so make sure it’s not going to bother you before you read.

**Day 16 - Hallucinations**

**Warnings:** heavily implied/referenced child abuse, panic attacks, claustrophobia, nyctophobia

They had just finished dinner and were still sitting at the long dining table, discussing the next day’s plans, when everything went wrong. 

It started with his vision going a little blurry. Keith blinked, then blinked again, trying his best to clear his eyes and the slight bout of dizziness without losing his focus on what Allura was saying. When that didn’t work, he shook his head. When  _ that  _ didn’t work, he brought one hand up to rub his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“Hey man, you okay?” Hunk whispered from his right. 

“Yeah. I’m just -”

He turned to look at Hunk, but the face he was met with made him jump so hard he fell out of his chair backwards and into Lance’s lap. 

“Dude, what the heck?”

It couldn’t be. It made no sense. But there he was, leering from the chair where Hunk should have been. The same broad face, flushed with alcohol, the same thick brown eyebrows pulled together into one long, angry line, the same scowl that promised nothing but pain to come. He opened his mouth and nothing but garbled nonsense came out, but Keith was sure it was something menacing.

Scrambling to his feet, he quickly put distance between himself and the table, and just in time, too, because the man was beginning to stand. The boy beside him, too, who Keith could now see was not Lance at all, but...Toby? His eyes went even wider, his breaths coming faster as his back hit the wall. 

Bill and Toby. They didn’t even know each other. They were from different homes, completely different towns, in fact. Why were they both here? Had they...had they done something with his friends? 

His eyes flicked back and forth between them. Bill looked as angry as ever, sweat sticking his already greasy hair to his forehead as his fists clenched, ready to strike. 

Toby was giving him that smirk, the one that said he was about to nonchalantly steal all of his food off his plate, or get him in trouble with the foster parents for something he didn’t do, or lock him out of the house for an entire weekend.

Bill took a step closer, and Keith flinched back into the wall, his palms pressing against it. More of the same unintelligible language came from Toby, and Keith frowned, wondering if something was wrong with his translator. It didn’t matter. Neither of those two meant anything good. He was about to beat a hasty retreat, try to go find what might have become of his friends, when movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

For an instant he thought it was Shiro, and he almost melted in relief. Shiro would help him. Shiro would make sure they didn’t touch him. 

But when he fully turned his head to see, his heart stopped beating completely before stuttering into overdrive. It was  _ them.  _ Not just him, but  _ her,  _ too, standing just behind him. Both still sporting the same supermodel good looks and expensive fashions, despite the fact that they were supposed to have spent the last five or six years in jail. They looked just like the nightmares that haunted him night after night. Just like they had back  _ then, _ back when he was with them, back when…

Keith’s legs gave out from under him and he hit the floor with a thud, but was back up on his feet an instant later and scooting himself backwards along the wall, away from all of them, towards the door. “No. No, you can’t…”  _ You can’t be here, _ he wanted to say, but he couldn’t say that, because that would make them mad, and if they were mad then things would be ten times worse for him. 

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he tried instead. “I didn’t…” The door was close now, and he turned and fled. Voices shouted behind him, but he ignored them, even though he knew that this was bad, running was bad, running was going to make them so mad, but he couldn’t handle them all at once, he  _ couldn’t.  _ He had barely survived any of them one at a time.

The halls of the Castle were comfortingly familiar, but somehow far  _ too _ familiar at the same time. If they had somehow gotten in without anyone noticing, had taken the place of his friends without him realizing it, then who’s to say that they didn’t know this place even better than he did? He needed somewhere to hide, and fast. But where could he go that they wouldn’t immediately find him?

“Keith?”

The voice was familiar, but not in the way he expected once he whirled around to face the source. A young girl stood at the end of the hallway, hair as long, stick-straight, and blonde as he remembered. “Brooke?”

She tilted her head to the side as he ran toward her, a puzzled look on her face. He honestly couldn’t decide whether seeing her again elated or terrified him, but what mattered right then was that they were both in danger.

“Hey, we’ve gotta go. It’s not safe here.” He knew better than to grab her wrist without asking, so he went for her hand, instead, telegraphing his movements so as not to startle her. “I’m sorry, but…” He took a deep breath, looking her straight in the eyes. “ _ They’re  _ here. We’ve gotta go. We need to hide.”

Brooke resisted when he began to run again, but was unable to keep from being tugged along behind him. “Keith, what…? I don’t understand!”

She sounded so much like Pidge that he had to do a double-take, but no, that was definitely Brooke. “I know, I don’t understand, either. I don’t know how....they were supposed to still be in jail. My social worker said they got ten years, and it hasn’t been…” He swore under his breath. “We’ve gotta hide. I don’t know where to go. They’re gonna find us.”

“Listen, can we…? I think we need to stop and talk about this for a second.”

He would have turned to yell at her if he hadn’t been so intent on not stopping. “No, Brooke! We can’t! Do you…have you already forgotten what they’ll do to us if they find us?”

“Okay, well...um...what about your room? Can we hide in your room?”

“No!” He shook his head adamantly. “My room is the first place they’d look.” His mind was racing faster than his feet. “The other wing of the Castle. The one we don’t use. That’s where we can go.”

Veering off to the left, he pulled her into a rarely-used hallway and up to a door that had to be forced open. He made sure to shut it back behind them to cover their tracks. Dust puffed out around their feet as they ran, and Keith’s head swiveled back and forth, trying to determine an appropriate place to stop. Part of him was screaming to keep going, to get deeper into the Castle and further away from  _ them,  _ but the other part wanted to hide  _ now,  _ before they caught up and found them. 

Finally the latter won out, and he skidded to a halt, flinging open the nearest door. It was a closet. He almost started running again. A closet was the last place he wanted to be right now, when the memories were already crowding in, threatening to overwhelm him. But there was enough room on the floor for both of them to sit semi-comfortably, and it was here, and available, and a closet was probably the last place they would think to look for them. No one would expect the two of them to voluntarily get in a closet.

Brooke looked appropriately scared when he turned to look at her, despite the lack of fear in her words up until then. With a quick apology, he shoved her inside, glanced back down the hall, then climbed in after her and shut the door.

Darkness fell. Keith’s breath caught in his throat.

“Keith?” Her voice was soft. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He clenched his teeth, swallowed, nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah. It’s...it’s okay. I know it’s...I know you’re probably scared. But we should be safe here. Even though it’s, you know...not the ideal location. But, uh...hey, at least it’s both of us this time. We’re not alone in here. And, you know. Free to move around. Talk. Hear. All that stuff.”

“Are you…” Brooke shifted around. “Keith, are you talking about...sensory deprivation? Did somebody...did somebody lock you in a closet and -”

“You know they did, Brooke, you were there!” he whisper-shouted through his teeth. “And now they’re here, I don’t know how, but I saw them! Bill and Toby, too, they...they’re from other homes I was in, before. I don’t know how they got here. I don’t know, I don’t understand.” Running his hands up through his hair, he gripped it tightly and began rocking back and forth.

“Hey.” A small hand found his arm and gripped it tightly. “It’s gonna be okay. Okay? You...I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but…” She sucked in a deep breath. “But I’m not Brooke. I don’t even know who Brooke is. It’s me, it’s Pidge.”

Keith stopped rocking, his brain screeching to a halt. “N-no, no, I saw you, I know who you are, you’re Brooke, I saw you.”

“No, look.” A green light came from some kind of watch on Brooke’s wrist, cutting through the pitch black. A tightness he hadn’t noticed taking over his chest eased just a little. 

But the next words that Brooke spoke were garbled, just like Bill’s and Toby’s had been. It was as if his brain couldn’t process seeing her and hearing her at the same time. Shaking his head, he ducked it between his arms, staring down at the floor. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I knew how to help you right now.”

“Keith? You in here? It’s me, Shiro.”

His head jerked up at the muffled, familiar voice.  _ Shiro.  _ He was okay. He would keep them safe. Even though he didn’t know Brooke, Keith knew that Shiro would protect her just like he had always protected him.

“That’s my friend,” he told her, standing, bumping his head on a shelf in his haste. “It’s alright, he’ll help us.”

He wanted to throw the door open and fling himself into Shiro’s arms, but restrained himself to cracking it open carefully. It was a good thing he did, too. The man that was standing out in the hallway, hands on his hips, lips turned upward in  _ that look  _ that said he was already plotting a suitable punishment , was decidedly  _ not  _ Shiro.

Keith slammed the door and fell up against it. “No, no no no…”

“What is it? Keith, what’s wrong? What about Shiro?” Brooke asked.

“It’s not, it’s not Shiro. I thought it was him but it’s  _ not,  _ it’s  _ him, _ and now he knows where we are, and there’s no way to keep him out -”

“Keith?” That voice came through the door again, the one that sounded just like Shiro but  _ wasn’t,  _ and Keith froze, his lungs heaving for air and heart pounding.

“It’s okay,” Brooke whispered. “I promise. Why don’t you just open the door -”

“No!” he exploded. “Have you lost your  _ mind?  _ How can you have possibly forgotten what they did to us, what they  _ made us do _ …?”

“Keith, buddy.” That voice made all his muscles seize up again. “I don’t know who you’re seeing when you look at me, but I promise, it’s me, Shiro. Listen to my voice.”

He shook his head against the door. “N-no, no, I’m not falling for your tricks. I saw you. I know who you are.”

“I think...I think that you can’t trust your eyes right now. I’m not sure what’s going on, but you seem to be seeing things that aren’t real. There are no enemies here. Just your friends.”

“Just Lance,” a voice that was decidedly Lance’s said.

“And Hunk.”

“And Allura.” He didn’t know anyone else who had that distinct of an accent.

“And I’m not Brooke. I’m Pidge.” 

He glanced down at her, and for a split second, her hair wavered between Brooke’s length and color and Pidge’s. 

“It’s true,” the Shiro voice said. “She’s the one that sent me a message, telling me where the two of you were.”

Now he looked at her again, this time in horror. If this was really Pidge and Shiro, then that would make perfect sense. But this was Brooke, and that was  _ him,  _ right? She wouldn’t rat him out to the man they both feared so much...right?

She started speaking again, and he closed his eyes so he could understand. “...want to help you, Keith. No one here is going to hurt you, I swear.”

He was so, so tired. His brain was a whirling mass of confusion and fear, and he just wanted this to all be over, to go back to the normal day in the middle of space with a bunch of friends and sentient robot lions that he had been having. He  _ wanted  _ them to be telling the truth, to be able to blame all of this somehow on his brain and know that his past tormentors weren’t really here, but...he couldn’t. Even though it made no sense for them to be outside an unlocked door just talking to him instead of forcing their way in and doing whatever they wanted, he still couldn’t trust it.

“Ah, Number One, did you locate them?” That was another distinct voice and accent, and Keith desperately wanted it to really be Coran. 

“Yeah. Did you find anything?”

“Yes, in fact, I did! It seems that one of the last ingredients on Number Two’s list for dinner tonight was a certain powder made from the Pera root, which is native to the planet of Troletsi, and has a distinct, tangy flavor -” 

“Coran. I need you to skip to the point.”

“Ah, yes. Sorry. The point is that the Pera root is toxic to Galra. Among the many possible symptoms is visual hallucinations.”

_ Hallucinations? _

“Oh, man.” That was Hunk...or someone who sounded like him. “I’m  _ so  _ sorry, Keith, I had no idea -”

“Hunk, let’s save it for later, okay?” Silence fell for a moment, then the Shiro voice spoke up again, quietly. “Keith? Did you hear all that?”

“Yeah,” he said back, just as quietly, then thought better of it. “Y-yes, sir.” Just in case it was him. No need to make him even more mad than he’d already be.

“So it’s like I said, you can’t trust your eyes right now. You’re gonna have to trust me, trust my voice, trust that there’s no way we would let anybody in here who was gonna hurt you.”

He leaned his forehead against the door, swallowed. “I...I don’t know if I can.” 

“Hey Coran?” Brooke...no, Pidge? spoke up. “What’s the cure?”

“I’m afraid all we can do is wait for the effects to wear off, Number Five.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see her nod. “Keith? If you want, I’ll sit in here with you until you feel better. I know you’re not super happy about being in this closet, but…”

“We’ll leave, if it makes you feel safer,” Shiro said. “You can stay with Pidge, and either come find us or just go back to your room when you’re ready.”

Footsteps retreated down the hallway, and he felt he could breathe a little easier for the first time in several minutes. Brooke-Pidge patted the floor next to her, away from the door, with a small smile, and he stepped over and settled down with no complaint. 

“You can still call me Brooke, if you want to. I don’t mind. And you can talk about whatever you want, or...not talk at all. Either way is okay with me. Just as long as you know that you  _ can  _ talk to me, or any of us, whenever you need to.”

Keith didn’t say anything in reply, but she scooted in a little closer to him, resting her cheek against his arm. Together they sat in silence, the green glow of her gauntlet like a nightlight between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The more I write Keith and Pidge together the more I love it (at least platonically). What about you, what do you think of their friendship?


	17. Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hunk gets another turn in the spotlight today! I think I enjoy writing him more than any of the other paladins (besides Keith, of course). I love the way the interaction between the two of them in this fic turned out. I didn’t originally think I would use any of the alternate prompts, but the original prompt for this day just wasn’t speaking to me. I actually ended up using alternates on a couple of other days coming up, too!

**Day 17 (Alt. Prompt 4) - Stitches**

**Warnings:** stitches (obviously), lots of blood, references to vomiting

“Oh man. This is bad. This is really, really bad.”

“Hunk.” Keith tightened his jaw, drew in a breath through his nose. “Look at me. Not my leg, stop looking at my leg, look at my face.”

With obvious effort Hunk dragged his eyes away from all the blood - and there was a lot, Keith was well aware, it was his blood, after all, and it was  _ everywhere  _ \- and to Keith’s face.

“It’s gonna be okay. I can fix this, and it’ll be fine. But I need your help, okay? I need you to  _ not  _ freak or pass out or puke on me.”

The Yellow Paladin nodded minutely, his eyes wide and lips pressed together. “Okay. Yeah, okay. I can do that. I can help. I mean, I’m not the one bleeding, after all, right? You’re the one who should be freaking out right now, why aren’t you freaking out right now?”

“Because I can’t afford to,” Keith snapped, slightly regretting it when Hunk flinched back, but shoving that aside because he couldn’t afford regrets right then, either. “I need you to go back inside Yellow and get your med kit for me. Can you do that?”

“Yeah!” He was on his feet in an instant, but held his hands out in front of him. “Just...just don’t die or anything while I’m gone, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Keith watched him retreat up the ramp of the Lion, then squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing. Tried to think of anything else but the giant gash in his thigh, and what he was about to have to do to fix it.

“Okay I got it!” 

Opening his eyes, he saw Hunk crouching beside him to set down the kit, and wondered how he hadn’t heard him approach. That wasn’t good. He knew he had already lost way too much blood, that was obvious from the way it coated his entire leg and both hands and the dirt around him, but he hadn’t realized he was at the skipping time stage already.

“Alright. I need you to open it up and see if you can find some antiseptic, and a needle and thread.”

“A needle an-” Hunk’s face paled again. “What? Are you…? You don’t expect me to…? I wanna help you, Keith, I really do, but I...I don’t think I can -”

“I’m not gonna make you do it.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “Oh. Good. But wait, that means…”

“Hunk. I need you to focus.” Because he was having a harder and harder time doing so himself.

“Right. Focusing.” Hunk set to digging through the box, and soon produced the things Keith had asked for. 

Keith blinked hard a couple of times, trying to get his vision to clear. “Do you know how to thread a needle?” 

He didn’t hear the answer, but suddenly a threaded needle was being held in front of his face. Another time skip.  _ Fantastic _ . “I need...I need one more thing. Something to bite down on.”

Hunk’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down visibly. “Right. Your belt?”

_ Oh.  _ He probably should have thought of that himself. Releasing his leg with one hand, he reached for the buckle, but Hunk caught his arm before he could get to it. 

“I got it, bud.” He quickly unbuckled the belt and slid it off, and Keith was in too much pain to be bothered by the close contact. “Okay, here you go.”

Before he took it in his teeth, Keith nodded toward the bottle sitting by Hunk’s knee. “Antiseptic first. Can you pour it for me?”

Nodding, Hunk uncapped the bottle while Keith clenched his jaw around the well-worn leather. “Ready?”

Keith gave a curt nod, even though he knew he would never actually be ready. The next thing he knew was  _ fire,  _ even worse pain than had been consuming his leg before, and he screamed hoarsely around the gag. His hearing and vision went out for an untold amount of time. He came back to awareness to the sound of Hunk apologizing over and over again. 

Without letting go of the belt, he waved his hand in the direction that he was pretty sure Hunk and the needle were. Thankfully Hunk seemed to read his mind, and placed the threaded needle into his hand.

“I looked to see if there was any kind of numbing stuff in here, but I don’t see anything,” he offered woefully.

“It’ll be fine.” 

The first puncture was always the worst. Or at least, that’s what he told himself, even though it really wasn’t true. The first was bad, and so was the second, because you had just experienced it once so you  _ knew _ how bad it was gonna be the second time. The next few weren’t usually as bad, but toward the end it would always all start to become too much, the pain overwhelming. Of course that was on a much smaller cut. He had never had to stitch one quite as long as the one he was currently looking at.

_ It’ll be fine. Just do it.  _ His hand was trembling, but he got the needle in, hissing in a breath as he did. 

Hunk moaned slightly. “I don’t think I can watch this, man. I’m gonna just...I’m gonna look at your face. That way I’ll still know if you need my help with anything.”

Keith ignored him, not because he didn’t understand his queasiness or appreciate his willingness to still help despite it, but because he didn’t have the physical or mental energy to do anything but make stitches. They were wobbly, crooked, too big in some places and almost too small in others. They looked almost as bad as his first attempt at this, but they were doing the job. The two sides of the gash were pulling together, little by little.

The problem was that his stamina was running out, his vision going spottier by the minute. Every time he had to pull the thread through, his arm felt like it weighed two tons. About halfway through, he fumbled the needle, dropping it into his lap, and his chin fell to his chest. 

“I can’t do it,” he whispered, spitting the belt out. “I...I can’t…”

“What is it, buddy?” Hunk’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he dragged his head back up with great effort. “Talk to me. What can’t you do? Can I help?”

“I can’t...the thread...can’t...keep pulling…”

“Can I pull?” he asked without hesitation. Keith blinked at him blearily, unable to reconcile the Hunk who couldn’t look at the stitches with the one who was now offering to help with the stitches. “I can’t do the actual, you know...poking.” Hunk shuddered at the mere thought. “But I could pull the thread through? Give your arm a break?”

Keith stared at him, then stared back down at his half-done leg. “Yeah. Okay. If...you think you...can.”

Hunk nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, bud. I told you I’d help. I’d do the whole thing for you if I could, but I’m just afraid I’d, you know, throw up, and you don’t really need that right now. I don’t get how you’re even doing this all on your own. Who knows how to do this, especially to themselves? Keith does, apparently.”

“Didn’t ‘xactly have a doctor in the desert. Or money. To go to a doctor.”

Hunk sighed. “I’m gonna put a pin in that and come back to how terribly sad it is later. Right now let’s get this leg taken care of.”

Working together, the job went three times as fast. Keith was barely managing to get each stitch in place with his shaking hands, but Hunk was doing superbly well steeling his stomach to quickly pull the thread through and hand it back again. And when the pain became overwhelming, when Keith didn’t think he could stick a needle into his skin  _ one more time,  _ he was right there with an encouraging word and squeeze of the arm.

When they finally reached the very end, Keith tried and failed to tie off the thread, and Hunk took over without a word. “There. We did it.” He snipped off the loose end with a small pair of scissors, and rapidly put everything away in the med kit. “Now, if you’ll give me just a second, I need to throw up.”

“‘kay. Don’t take too long. Think I’m ‘bout to pass out.”

Hunk’s eyes went wide. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll do that.”

True to his word, less than a minute passed before he was back by Keith’s side. “I’m here, bud. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You just rest.”

“Th’ks. An’...th’ks for helpin’.”

“Of course, bud.” 

Keith let his eyes fall shut and the pain slip away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you love Hunk and Keith looking out for each other, raise your hand!


	18. Panic Attacks/Phobias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve got a pretty good mix of physical and emotional whump going on today, though I’d say it leans more toward emotional. A little bit of Shiro, yet another original alien race (how many does that make now this month? I feel like it’s a lot), and plenty of angst to go around. This is one of my favorite Keith headcanons, so I’m glad I got the chance to explore it.

**Day 18 - Panic Attacks/Phobias**

**Warnings:** fire, panic attacks, flashbacks, referenced minor character death, disassociation, scars

The first time that Red shot out a long stream of fiery lava, obliterating a nearby Galra ship, Keith had gone stiff, images of flames flashing through his mind in rapid succession until everything went blank. He spent the rest of the battle with his body piloting by rote while his consciousness hid somewhere in the back corner of the cockpit, watching.

He wasn’t just the Red Paladin, he’d come to realize later. He was the Paladin of Fire.

Because of course he was. That was just how Keith’s life worked.

When Sendak attacked the Arusian’s village, the sight of the burning houses sent pain shooting through Keith’s hands and shoulder. He had wanted to disassociate then, too, so badly. His brain screamed at him to let it retreat, to not have to watch the flickering orange tongues that brought back so many painful memories. But he was a  _ Paladin of Voltron. _ There was no way he could let himself be defeated by something as stupid as  _ fire. _ Lance would never let him live it down if he froze where others could see, and Princess Allura was counting on him to do his job right. He had to prove himself. They needed to know they weren’t making a mistake in trusting him.

So he had plunged forward, going closer to the flames than he probably should have, shoving everything down, down, down until it was out of reach for the moment. And immediately after that it was constant activity, trying to get back into the Castle to defeat Sendak and save the others, so he didn’t have time to remember, to think about what he had done, until it was much later and he was lying in his bed, trying to sleep. 

That’s when the nightmares came, as they so often did anyway. Having experienced the heat in real life so recently made them all the more realistic that night, though.

It was months later before he had to face his fear during waking hours again. They were in the middle of an intense air and ground battle with the Empire just outside a military base on the planet Nateya. Hunk and Pidge were in their Lions, shooting up the cruisers that hovered above, while Keith and Shiro fought hand to hand down below alongside Nateyan soldiers and Lance sniped from the top of a nearby building.

Without warning, one of the ships fired a laser cannon at the largest building on base, causing a small explosion that shook the ground. The place immediately went up in flames. Most of the Nateyans were already outside fighting, but those that weren’t soon started pouring out the front door.

For a moment Keith’s feet were glued in place, his mind stuck in the past. The image of the military building flickered in and out, juxtaposed with a much taller building with lots of dark, reflective windows.

_ Kogane! Don’t go back in there, it’s too late! _

_ They’re still inside, I have to try to save them! _

“I have to try to save them,” he whispered. Before his mind had caught up to what his body was doing, his feet had already carried him to the door.

Past all the people. Ignore them, they’re not who you’re looking for. Ignore the fact that you’re the only one moving in this direction. Ignore the smoke that’s starting to clog the air the further in you go. Ignore the voices crying in the back of your head.

_ Dad! No, Dad, come back! _

The stream of aliens had thinned out. One lone male stumbled out of a back hallway that glowed orange, coughing. Keith grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Is anyone else back there?”

The Nateyan shook his head. “If they are, I doubt they survived.”

_ Somebody get the kid out of there! _

Without another word, Keith pushed past him and into the hallway. The air was growing more and more stifling with each step. Around a corner, and suddenly he could hear the pops and crackles of the fire.

_ Searing pain in his hands, on his shoulder. _

He began kicking open each door he passed, sticking his head inside to look for survivors before moving on. The heat was intense now, he could feel it even through his suit. The crackles had turned into a roar that grew in his ears until it was deafening.

_ No! No! I want my Dad! Give me my Dad! _

It wasn’t until he was standing face to face with a wall of flame, struggling to breathe in a way that had nothing to do with the smoke, that he finally found someone. A young, female Nateyan, cowering in the corner of the last room before oblivion.

“Come on!” he shouted, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her up. “We’ve gotta get out of here!”

_ Come on, kid, you’re hurting yourself. You’ve gotta get away from there. _

Back out into the hall. The fire had progressed, licking at his back as he shielded the young woman. A beam crashed to the floor just behind them, and both of them hit the floor, from fear rather than the actual impact. 

It was the last straw for Keith’s tenuous hold on his sanity. When he scrambled back to his feet and pulled her up with him, he was actually floating several feet above his own head, following from behind near the ceiling as the two bodies below ran back through the long hallways. It was much more pleasant up there, honestly. The sound of the flames and the thick smoke that made the woman cough constantly didn’t bother him in the least.

When they burst out of the building and into the cool, fresh air, he watched as Shiro ran up to him, and watched himself fail to respond. Shiro seemed concerned, shaking his shoulders gently, calling his name over and over, but he couldn’t bother himself to go back down and into the nightmare that would be waiting for him. Finally the Black Paladin took him by the arm and led him away from the last strains of the battle. Keith followed along, into a quiet alleyway, where they both sat with their backs up against the wall.

It took a while. Shiro held his hand the whole time, though he couldn’t actually feel it. The transition came with no warning, his consciousness crashing back down into his body with a force that nearly knocked him over, and immediately he couldn’t breathe. 

_ I want my Dad! Give me back my Dad! _

A band was wrapped around his lungs. Squeezing, always squeezing, tighter and tighter until he thought his ribs would all crumble. Fumbling for his helmet, he managed to release the seal and threw it to the ground, then grabbed fistfuls of his hair and pulled. The pressure somehow eased some of the tension that had taken over his body, but it didn’t make pulling in air any easier.

_ We need an EMT over here! _

Shiro was saying something in his ear. It sounded like a bumblebee droning, or like a radio playing underwater. A hand touched his arm and he jerked away, doubling over to dig his forehead into the dirt.

_ A deafening sound, a sound that he would never forget in all his years. The sound of a charred building collapsing in on itself. _

Hands were on his face. He fought against them, but they held fast, pulling his head up so that he was eye to eye with Shiro. It took several long moments before Keith’s brain registered that he was emulating deep breathing for him to follow.

_ DAD! _

“That’s it.” Shiro’s voice broke through the roar suddenly. “That’s great, Keith. Just keep breathing, just like that.”

Another breath. Two. They were getting easier, little by little. The pain in his chest was subsiding, though the scars on his palms and shoulder still burned beneath his armor. He suspected it would be a few days before they’d stop.

“There you go, bud. You’re gonna be okay.”

_ I’m sorry, kid. Your dad is gone. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE the comments you guys have been leaving! Thank you!


	19. Presumed Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is another sneak peek at an AU I plan on writing someday...probably before the Black Paladins one, tbh. The full length version will be from Keith’s perspective, and cover the events starting at Naxzela and leading up to this ficlet. There are more spoilers than usual in the warnings, so use your discretion when it comes to reading those first.

**Day 19 (Alt 11) - Presumed Dead**

**Warnings:** temporary major character death, references to self-sacrifice, slavery, collars, starvation, broken bones

It had been over a year - a decaphoeb, in Altean terms - since Keith died. 

Over a year since he had gone radio silent, leaving Shiro to call his name over and over again with no reply.

Over a year since Matt had reluctantly delivered the news.

Over a year of grieving.

Over a year of periodic nightmares, where their brains would make up horrific images of the last few seconds of his life, of what it had been like in the cockpit of that fighter when it had smashed into the shield.

It still hurt. It probably wouldn’t ever completely stop hurting. 

But gradually, it had gotten better. Allura and Coran were the most used to accepting loss and moving on, so they had shown their grief the least, though occasionally you might see the Princess staring at the Red Paladin’s control chair with a far off look in her eyes, or hear Coran catch himself just before calling out to “Number Four”.

Hunk’s grieving process involved a lot of baking, especially of Keith’s favorite brownies, and periodic meltdowns into tears that would set everyone else in the vicinity crying, too.

Pidge had always been the worst - next to Keith - at dealing with emotions, and spent weeks and weeks on end locked in her room. It had taken everyone else left on the team to eventually drag her back out for anything other than missions.

Lance, surprisingly, had taken it harder than almost anyone else. After taking Pidge’s route for a few days, disappearing into his room, he had emerged with red eyes and a somber personality that never quite recovered back to what it had been. He spent more and more time in Red’s hangar, the two of them seeming to grow closer than ever. The others silently wondered if it had something to do with their shared loss.

Of course Shiro was hit the hardest of all, though he spoke about his grief less than anyone else. Instead he focused on making sure that everyone else was dealing with their own in a healthy way, and urging the team after a proper amount of time had passed back into their training and missions. 

But everyone could see the effect that it had on him. The bags under his eyes had never been darker, advertising his lack of sleep even if someone had somehow missed the shouts coming from his room in the dead of night or the prolonged wanderings through the Castle. His flashbacks became worse, too, interrupting training sessions on a regular basis instead of just occasionally. 

Everyone was getting better, though, day by day, month by month. Keith was dead. It still hurt. But they had accepted that he was gone, and were learning to live with it.

Which is one reason why they were all having a particularly hard time believing that he was standing right in front of them.

That, and the fact that it barely looked like him. The boy, the  _ slave,  _ that they found kneeling obediently by the side of the Galran commander they had come with Emperor Lotor to speak to, was more wraith than person. Bones protruded from every visible patch of skin. His hair, his mullet, arguably his most recognizable feature, was gone, shaved down to almost nothing. His  _ mistress _ kept stroking the fuzzy top of his head possessively while she talked. And he was  _ letting  _ her. That in itself was as much of a warning sign as anything else, even the leather collar encircling his throat, though he at least didn’t look overly happy about it.

All of that, of course, didn’t even touch on the injuries. His left eye was clouded over, a milky white color instead of the grey-violet they were accustomed to. The lack of fat around his shoulders made the strange angles in the left one even more obvious, and the lower part of the same arm was abnormally bent. His right arm was missing altogether below the elbow. 

Those were bad enough. When he stood a little later, though, they’d also find that he stooped to one side, and his left leg was so mangled no one was sure how he was standing at all. The knee faced one way while the foot faced the other, and neither direction was straight.

But the face was the same. And there was no mistaking the way that his one good eye lit up at the sight of them. 

In a way, the state of his body made sense - he  _ had  _ smashed his ship into the shield, after all. Matt had watched him. And it wasn’t all that surprising that the Galra didn’t make sure he was healed properly, even though it was a disturbing thought that they had just  _ left  _ him like that.

Now the same question was on everyone’s mind.  _ Why didn’t we search the wreckage? _ Keith had been alive this whole time. 

_ Alive. _

Alive, and living in constant pain. As a slave. 

It was almost harder to stomach than his death.

Words were exchanged. First diplomatic, then heated. Keith sat quietly through it all, his jaw clenching every time the commander’s clawed hand ran across his head, but never once speaking up for himself. There was no sign of the spark, the fire that they were used to seeing from him.

When at last Emperor Lotor ordered the commander to release Keith back into their custody, and she actually listened, he rose slowly, painfully, but then lingered where he stood, uncertain.

Shiro reached out a hand, smiling with tears reflecting in his eyes. “It’s alright, Keith. We’re taking you home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give a shout if you want more of this AU someday...and make sure to follow this series if you don't want to miss it (and other Keith whump, of course)!


	20. Medieval

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I basically set this fic in BBC's Merlin, minus any of the actual characters. Any fellow fans out there? Anyway, I wasn't sure what to do for today's prompt for a while before this idea came to me, then I got to spend an afternoon researching. ;) Hope you enjoy!

**Day 20 - Medieval**

**Warnings:** restraints, death mention, torture, dislocation, broken bones, mild blood, mild gore

  
The city of Prakkus was stuck in medieval times. At first, they thought it was just the architecture, which really did look like a citadel straight out of the Earth Middle Ages. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge had started in on the "dragons and knights in shining armor" comments right off the bat, which Keith had listened to with silent amusement.

Then they actually got inside, and the natives - a pink-skinned, mostly humanoid race that called themselves Dornads - were all dressed in long gowns, tunics, and robes. It really did look like they had stepped into the pages of a history book. Even Keith caught himself looking around in awe at everything, and the Garrison trio's commentary just became even more animated.

  
It wasn't until later, though, that they'd realize just how stuck in the medieval era these people were. Not until they were greeting King Uster and discussing an alliance, and Pidge brought up a holographic screen from her gauntlet, and the throne room exploded with shouts of treason.

Not until they were being accused of sorcery and dragged down deep below the castle, into a real-life dungeon lit only by torches along the walls and guarded by Dornads wearing polished armor.

Their own armor was taken, leaving them with no easy way out of the cell they were all thrown into. The only good news was that their flight suits still managed to keep out the chill, since in true medieval fashion there was no heating in the dungeon.

Bright and early the next morning, they were woken by a guard banging on the bars of their cell door.

"You." He pointed a gloved finger straight at Keith. "You are the leader here, are you not?"

Hunk's hand gripped his arm, but he shook it off and stood before anyone else could protest. "I am."

"Come with me."

The others scrambled to their feet, firing off questions about where he was being taken and why, but Keith just followed the guard's directions and stuck his hands out the gap in the door so that thick iron shackles could be clamped around his wrists. "It's okay, guys. We'll get all of this figured out."

"Just tell them the truth, Keith," Allura urges. "It may take some work, but surely they will understand if you explain it to them."

 _Right._ Because he had always been so good with words, with _explaining._ That was her job, and Shiro's job, not his. It was one of the many reasons he sucked at being the leader.

But he could do this part. He could take responsibility for his team, take whatever they wanted to throw at him just to make sure the others stayed safe and unhurt.

He was led all the way back to the throne room they had been in the day before, and shoved to his knees in front of King Uster. The man looked down at him in disdain from underneath his golden crown.

"Black Paladin of Voltron. You kneel before this court today accused of the crime of sorcery. Do you recant?"

"Sir, with all due respect, I think there has been a misunderstanding. What you saw yesterday wasn't _magic_ , it was just an electronic -"

"Do you recant _?"_

Pressing his lips together, Keith tried his best not to be annoyed at the interruption. "There are other planets and races that are more technologically advanced th-"

" _Do you recant?"_ The King was practically shouting now. "Your crime has already been penalty for practicing sorcery is death. However, if you recant on behalf of yourself and your _associates,_ there will be no further punishment."

Keith furrowed his brow. "So wait, you're just gonna _kill us_ without a trial? Without even listening to an explanation?"

"You really expect to need a trial after your crime was witnessed by so many, including myself? I suggest you recant now."

"And if I don't?" he shot back.

The King's three eyes narrowed. "Then, Black Paladin, you will return to the dungeon to face the honed skills of my punisher until you _do_ recant. Then you and your associates shall all be executed."

So, torture. Right. Not something he was looking forward to, but what he was hearing was that the other choice was to admit to something he didn't do and immediately get him and his team killed. If he refused, then he got tortured, but they all got to live in the meantime. That was more time for someone to come up with an escape plan, or for Coran to realize something was amiss and figure out how to get them out.

He lifted his chin. "We didn't do anything wrong."

King Uster leaned back in his throne and flicked a dismissive hand. "Take him away."

The trip back down was rougher than the trip up. The guard pulled him so quickly that his feet could barely keep up, almost dragging him down the stone steps. He had hoped that the torture would be happening in a separate area from the cells so that his teammates would be none the wiser, but unfortunately it was in an open space just down the hall. Down the hall _past_ the cells.

"Keith!"

"Keith, what's going on?"

He threw the best smile he could muster their way as he was yanked past. "It's okay. Just...keep thinking."

He hoped they'd know what he meant. It was all he had time to say, and he didn't want any extra suspicion on them. But he _really_ needed them to figure out a way to escape.

The torture room looked exactly how he imagined it would. There were chains dangling from the ceiling, clamps and knives and various devices of unknown use hanging on every wall. Keith was led straight to something that he was pretty sure he recognized before they even began strapping him down to it.

It was a table of sorts, sitting at an incline. The shackles were taken from his wrists, only to be replaced with the metal cuffs attached to ropes on the higher end of the table. Identical cuffs at the low end were put around his ankles - after his boots were removed - so that he was lying on his back with his arms stretched up over his head. Though he knew _stretched_ wasn't really the word to describe it, not compared to how they were about to be.

Sure enough, the guard stepped to the crank on one end of the table, and a newcomer, the "punisher", he assumed, took the place by his feet.

"All you must do is recant to make this end."

The cranks began to turn. The rope tightened. It went just past pulling taut to the point of putting pressure on his limbs before they stopped.

"Do you recant?"

"We didn't do anything wrong."

The ropes went tighter. A mild ache started up in his joints.

"Do you recant?"

"It's called _science._ "

Another turn, and his knees and elbows began to creak.

"Do you recant?"

" _No._ "

His knees and elbows were dangerously close to pulling out of their sockets, and his hips and shoulders were popping.

"Do you recant?"

Keith swallowed a groan. _You can't scream. You can't scream. They don't need to hear this, you can't scream._

The crank turned. His knees and elbows dislocated with a loud _crack._

He screamed.

" _Keith!_ " he could barely hear from down the hall. Other shouts accompanied, but they all blurred together.

"Do you recant?"

Another turn brought the ropes tight again, and his dislocated joints cried out. His back arched, as if it could somehow relieve the pressure.

The punisher walked away for a moment, only to return holding a small piece of wood with round holes cut through it. He fit the holes over the toes of Keith's right foot, then produced a wooden chisel and a hammer.

Keith didn't know what was coming for sure, but he knew he wasn't going to like it.

"Do you recant?"

"Just do it," he growled.

The chisel was wedged into the hole housing his smallest toe, then the hammer slammed into the end of it. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose as the bone broke, but managed not to make anymore noise.

He didn't, in fact, through all the other toes, until it was the big toe snapping. Then he let out a moan through his teeth that he hoped was too quiet for the others to hear.

"Do you recant?"

" _No!_ "

Back to the cranks again. His shoulders weren't going to last much longer. It took another two turns, and agonizing pain in his already destroyed joints, for them to simultaneously pop out of place.

He screamed again, and his team echoed their own cries right back.

 _How hard would it be_ , his traitorous mind started to think, _to confess to using magic? That's all it would take to make him stop._

But the sound of his friends' voices kept him from giving in. He had to stay strong. He _had_ to. Otherwise they'd be dead by tomorrow.

"Do you recant?"

His hips were next, and hopefully last, to go. If they went any further, it would be his spine, and he was pretty sure they didn't want to kill him. Yet. Though the pain was making his brain so fuzzy, he wasn't even completely sure about that anymore.

The punisher leaned over him. "Do you recant?"

Keith couldn't have answered even if he wanted to.

The cuffs were removed from his wrists and ankles, and he was jerked up from the rack with more force than necessary. A strangled cry ripped from his throat. The guard marched him across the room, though it was less a march than a series of stumbles on Keith's part. His legs and toes were in more pain than he realized was possible, but if he fell then they'd just drag him by his also ruined arms.

A coffin-shaped structure loomed before him. Two doors swung open from the front, revealing an interior filled with short spikes.

"Perhaps a night spent with the Iron Maiden will change your mind."

The guard shoved him forward and adjusted him until he stood in the tiny space in the center. All his weight settled onto his dislocated hips and knees. Tears sprang into his eyes unbidden, but he gritted his teeth and refused to look away as the heavy, spiked doors came swinging in toward him.

Then it was dark. Completely, pitch black dark, and the only sound he could hear was his own labored breathing.

But he didn't have to see the metal spikes to know they were still there. He could feel them, pricking at his skin every time he swayed the slightest bit in any direction. His legs _hurt_ , so badly. He wasn't even sure how he was standing on them at all, and had a feeling that it wouldn't last for much longer. If he could raise his arms, he could brace himself against the walls somehow, but even if he had been able to get them past the spikes without shredding them he couldn't will his shoulders to move.

Slowly, over the next...he didn't even know, because time was impossible to mark in the darkness and silence...Keith found himself sinking backwards and to one side. He couldn't help it. Yes, the spikes were embedding themselves into his flesh. Yes, it hurt. But at least it took his mind off the rest of his pain, just a bit.

And as gruesome as it was, the spikes were helping to hold him up, by his ribs if nothing else, taking some of the pressure off his hips and knees.

It felt like hours and hours later when the doors opened again, leaving a barely conscious Keith to groan and squint his eyes shut against the torchlight that filtered in. There was a flurry of voices and movement, multiple pairs of hands grasped his arms, legs, and torso, and he was gently eased off of the spikes and out of the metal box. He whimpered as blood began to flow from the newly opened holes.

"I know, Keith, I know," a voice whispered. "It's alright. It's alright."

A gentle hand was stroking his hair. His eyelids fluttered open, and he could just make out the blurry face that hovered over him.

"'llura…you...got out."

She smiled tightly. "Yes. I just wish it had been sooner."

"Why'd you do it, man?" He knew Lance's voice, though he couldn't will his head to turn to see him. "Why'd you let them do this to you? You could have just told them what they wanted to hear!"

"They were gonn'..." Keith clenched his teeth as a wave of pain washed over him, "ex'cute everybody. Had t'...stall. So you could get out." The corner of his mouth turned up as he returned Allura's worried gaze. "I'm the leader. 's my job t' protect you."

"Well, now I've officially made it _our_ job to protect _you_."

"No arguments here." Lance stood. "I see Hunk and Pidge coming back with our armor. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

Allura stood, too, picking Keith up in her arms. He bit back a groan. "Popsicle stand? What is a popsicle, and why are we blowing its stand?"

Keith let his eyes slip shut. "I could eat a po'sicle right now. Soun's good."

Lance chuckled and ruffled his hair softly. "Soon as we get back to the Castle, I'll make sure Hunk makes you as many popsicles as you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get it? King _Uster?_ Never mind.
> 
> Gotta love some good old fashioned medieval torture devices. Or at least, I had fun playing with them. Hope you had fun reading it!


	21. Chronic Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get to bring in two new characters to the mix today! I won’t say who yet, you’ll just have to read to find out. :)

**Day 21 - Chronic Pain**

**Warnings:** nudity (non-sexual), foster home mention

It was a bad day. A  _ really _ bad day.

He had plenty of bad days, those came nearly once a month. Those he could power through.

But this was one of those days that thankfully, didn’t show up too often. He hadn’t had one this bad in probably a year or more. Certainly not since coming to space, which he was more than grateful for. 

Curling in tighter on himself, Keith stifled a whimper with his pillow. He was pretty sure his roommates were already long gone, but he still didn’t want to risk anyone hearing him make pathetic noises. He needed to get up. It was getting late in the day, and he was still in the bed, and he was pretty sure he had a mission at some point to report for. If he didn’t get up soon, somebody was going to come looking for him, and then not only would he be in trouble, but he’d have to explain why he was curled up like a kitten with the covers pulled over his head and tear tracks staining his face. 

And he didn’t even know. All he knew was that it  _ hurt _ , and it had been doing so for his entire life.

_ Okay. I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna get up.  _

Willing his right arm to move, he threw off the thin blanket. The air was cool, just like the other Blade members seemed to like it. Apparently Galra ran warmer than humans. He was generally cold at night, but didn’t want to be a bother by asking for another blanket.

Now he had to force himself out of the fetal position. He started with the left leg, stretching it out slowly, slowly. The ache grew the farther out it went, until he was turning his face over to keen into the pillow again. 

The second leg he decided to do fast, just to get it over with. Throwing it out straight, he gasped involuntarily as pain shot through it. For a moment he just lay there, letting the aches settle until they were at a semi-tolerable level, then began the equally painful process of levering himself up.

By the time he was sitting up, he was close to tears again.  _ Breathe,  _ he reminded himself.  _ Keep breathing.  _

All that was left was to stand up, walk to the shelf to get his suit, walk down the hall to the communal bathing room, get undressed, bathe, get dressed, walk back to his room to put his sleep clothes away, walk to the bridge, then go on a mission. 

_ Yeah. Sure. _

Never mind that each of those individual tasks felt like the equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest. He had no choice. He was a Blade, and Blades didn’t just let a little thing like pain stop them from doing their jobs. If he couldn’t do this, if he tried to get out of going out today, then they might decide he wasn’t worthy of being one of them. They would kick him off the base, and then where would he go? 

Not back to the Castle. There was no more room for him there, not without kicking someone else more deserving out of their place. And even if he thought he could make it all the way back to Earth, there had never been anything for him there. Just an empty, lonely, rundown shack in the middle of the desert, and the only reason he had lasted so long out there the first time was the Blue Lion. She wasn’t there anymore.

_ Okay. Getting up.  _

Standing took three times as long as it should have. Walking felt like the floor was covered in spikes, and like someone was following him around stabbing him with knives all over his legs. His back wouldn’t quite straighten all the way, at least not without adding a few more knives to the mix, so his posture resembled that of a wrinkled old man. He managed to make it all the way down the hall without running into anyone, thankfully, since he was hunched over and moving at a snail’s pace, and also thankfully was late enough that he was alone in the bathing room.

Galra didn’t do showers. He had learned that upon first arriving at the base. Instead, they used large, square tubs that could fill with either water, dust, or some kind of blue goo, depending on the needs of the individual’s skin, scales, or fur. It had taken him a while to figure out all the different settings, and he had accidentally set off the dust and goo a couple of times in the beginning. Right now, he was hoping that some nice, hot water would be what his body needed to cope with the day to come.

It did feel good to start with. Certainly nicer than he had felt the whole day so far. Keith was able to stretch out his legs, arms, and back fully for the first time without excruciating pain...for a few minutes.

Then the cramps started creeping back in, seizing up his muscles, making him whine. Tucking his knees up under his chin, he let the tears come again. He was  _ tired. _ And so tired of hurting. A normal day, a day where his bones throbbed but he could use exercise or just pure willpower to get past it and ignore it...that he was used to. He should have been used to these days, too. But they never failed to catch him by surprise and completely knock him off his feet, sapping all his energy and will to do anything but stay in bed. These days turned him into a pathetic excuse for a person, and that was to say nothing about being a soldier. He  _ hated  _ feeling so weak and useless.

The timed bath ran out, and the water began draining. Keith was left curled up in yet another ball, shivering, unable to summon the strength to climb out. The cold doubled the intensity of the pain. His jaw was beginning to add itself to the list of aches from clenching it so hard to keep his teeth from chattering, but he couldn’t even make himself reach over for his towel.

_ You’ve got to get up. Do you really want someone to find you like this? _

As if reading his mind, the door swished open. “Keith?” a familiar, accented voice called. “Are you in here?”

_ Regris.  _ He lifted a trembling arm finally, swallowing a grunt, trying to get himself covered before he was spotted, but had only made it to the top of the tub when his partner rounded the corner. 

“There you are!” Regris stopped, taking in the empty tub, the shaking limbs, and the streaks of water down Keith’s cheeks that were probably very obviously not bath water, and frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith gritted out through his teeth. “‘m fine.” He continued trying to reach the towel, but his arm didn’t want to unfurl quite enough to nab it.

“Ya don’t look so fine, mate.” Crossing to the side of the tub, he snatched up the towel himself and threw it over Keith’s shoulders. “Are ya sick?”

“N-no.” Now he  _ had _ to get up, whether he thought he was capable or not, so he gripped the sides of the tub with sore fingers and began to push, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the screaming in every inch of his body. “Told you. ‘m  _ fine. _ ”

Regris shook his head with a sigh. “Course you are. That’s why ya can’t even stand up proper.” Leaning down, he grasped Keith’s arm in his clawed hand and hoisted him up. While he did need the help, the sudden movement sent a wave of pain through him and he wasn’t able to hold in his cry.

The young Galra jumped back like he had been shocked, swearing. “What is it, mate? You’re injured, aren’t ya? Why didn’t you go to the med bay?”

“‘m not...injured.” Shakily, he adjusted the towel so it was wrapped around his waist, then gave in and grabbed onto Regris’ shoulder so that he could painstakingly step out onto the cold floor. “Don’t need th’...med bay. Doctor’s never did anything for me before. ‘cept tell me it was...just growing pains.”

Regris’ brow furrowed as he watched Keith slowly collect his clothing. “Well, what  _ is  _ it then, if you’re not injured? Ya look like somebody stabbed ya in the gut.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Feels...kinda like somebody put concrete in all my bones.” He paused, thought about that comparison, then added, “But it’s expanding concrete.”

“I’ve no idea what ‘concrete’ is, but if ya feel that bad then maybe you should be restin’ in your room.”

Keith shook his head. “Got a mission soon. Need to get ready.”

Regris groaned. “Don’t be bone-headed Keith, ya can’t go on a mission like this.”

Turning his back, Keith started shuffling back toward the door. “Pretty sure the...Blade of Marmora doesn’t give...sick days.”

“Pretty sure the Blade of Marmora doesn’t want someone who can barely walk on a stealth mission!” Regris called to him just before the door slid shut.

He was right. He needed to get his act together. If Kolivan saw him like this, he’d kick him off the mission for sure, and then it wouldn’t be long before he was kicked out of the Blade altogether. Especially if he found out that this was a semi-regular occurrence. 

Making it back to his room, he sat down on his bed and attempted to put on his uniform. Ten dobashes later, he had managed to get it over his legs and up to his waist, and had then fallen over sideways on the bed to fold up and shake some more. That’s when a knock came on the door. He jolted, thinking to try to sit up, but the door opened before he could.

“Regris informed me that you were feeling ill. I believe that he may have understated the severity of your condition.”

_ Quiznak. Why did stupid Regris have to go and get Kolivan? _

“N-no, no, ‘m fine, I told him I was fine.” He pushed himself up much faster than he thought would be possible, avoiding eye contact with the towering Galra while he tugged his uniform up further. “I’m not sick. Just...a little sore.”

“Keith.” The severity of the tone made him glance up for just a moment, but he couldn’t hold the steady yellow gaze. “We have worked together for quite some time now. I have seen you after the hardest of training sessions, when older, more experienced Blades have thrown you to the floor and against the walls repeatedly. I have seen you after missions when you were shot, cut with a sword, or caught in an explosion. These things would all cause you to be more than ‘a little sore’.” He paused as if for effect. “Yet I have never seen you like this, barely able to leave your own bed. Clearly you are suffering from more than simple sore muscles.”

Keith clenched his jaw again, his arms wrapped tightly around his bare stomach. He wasn’t going to get away with lying. Kolivan would see through any of it, and he couldn’t even think of a believable excuse to give him.

“It’s nothing,” he finally said quietly. “Just this...pain, that I get from time to time. It’s not usually this bad. I can usually work through it.” He lifted his head. “And I can today, too. I know this mission’s important. I’ll make it happen.”

“What kind of pain?” Kolivan asked, his voice almost as soft, uncharacteristically so.

Keith shrugged, though he immediately regretted it. “In my bones...my muscles...feels like...they’re being compressed. Like there’s not enough room in my skin for what’s inside of it.”

Kolivan nodded solemnly, not speaking for a moment. Inwardly, Keith was beating himself up for allowing his secret to be found out, waiting for his leader to break the news that he could no longer be a Blade.

Instead, he crossed the room and sank down gently onto the bed next to Keith. “This has been going on for a long time, has it not?”

Keith nodded slowly, still expecting the worst. “My whole life. Or at least, as long as I can remember.” Countless foster families, social workers, and doctors had dismissed his pain, telling him that he was being overdramatic and exaggerating the intensity. Eventually he had learned not to tell anyone.

Kolivan hummed in thought. “As a full-blood Galra, myself, I do not know much about this phenomenon. But I have heard that it is, indeed, very painful.”

It took a moment for the full meaning of his words to sink in, and then Keith was too surprised to do more than stutter, “W-wait, what?”

“Growing pains,” Kolivan stated matter-of-factly, and for a tick Keith thought he was being dismissed again and he wanted to melt. “Many half-blood Galra struggle with it. It is much like you described - likely your bones are more like that of a Galra than a human, and are attempting to grow at the rate that matches. However, the outside of your body is very much human, and is holding them back.”

Keith just stared at him as his brain processed this information.  _ Finally,  _ somebody believed him. That in and of itself was almost too good to be true. And not only did he believe him, but he had  _ answers?  _ He knew  _ why  _ Keith was hurting? He still had so many questions, though, and wasn’t sure whether he could believe this quite yet.

“If...if it’s a half-Galra thing, then why didn’t Regris know what it was?”

“It all depends on not only what the other species is, but also what traits from each species you acquire from your parents. Others may struggle with different types of mixed blood related problems, while some, like Regris, seem to have no conflicts between their two halves. What you are experiencing is quite rare, but not so rare that I have not encountered it before.”

Biting down on his lip, Keith considered this. “Okay, but...I’m eighteen years old. Shouldn’t I be done growing by now?”

He could have sworn that Kolivan almost smiled at that, and kind of almost looked like he wanted to reach out and ruffle Keith’s hair. “In human years, maybe. By Galran standards you are still quite young, and Galra also continue growing well into their young adult years.”

Keith sighed heavily, hunching over himself further. “So in other words, I’ve still got a long time left to deal with this.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Kolivan stood. “But if you will accompany me to the med bay, I believe we will be able to find something to help you, at least on these especially hard days.”

Keith grimaced. “Thanks, but pain medication doesn’t work for me. At least not for  _ this. _ ”

Kolivan leveled a knowing stare at him. “Keith, when was the last time that you tried pain medication for  _ this? _ ”

“Um…” He bit his lip, realizing the answer. “Before I found out I was Galra…?”

“As I thought.” Kolivan held out his hand. “Come. I will assist you to the med bay, and once you have taken your medication I want you to come back here and rest.”

“But the mission -”

“Will be handled by others.”

“Kolivan, I -”

“ _ You _ are ill. We cannot afford to have anyone on a mission who is at less than their best.”

Keith stared down at the floor. “I know,” he whispered.

“There is no shame in taking care of your health. Everyone must do so from time to time.”

A spark of hope replaced his disappointment, and he looked back up. “You’re gonna let me stay?”

Kolivan’s brow furrowed. “Of course. You have yet to give me a reason not to.”

Relief washed over him. Someone believed him, he was getting help,  _ and  _ he wasn’t being kicked out. Maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Kolivan managed to make Keith tell him that being cold made it worse, so he gave him a ton of blankets for his bed. The End.


	22. Drugged/Withdrawals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sickfics are not usually my thing, to read or to write. But I gave it a whirl, knowing that some people love them, so I hope someone reading this does!

**Day 22 - Drugged/Withdrawal**

**Warnings:** referenced non-consensual drug use, nightmare mention, vomiting, needles

It should have been over as soon as he got back to the Castle. He was home. He was safe. There were no longer any druids, pumping him full of unknown substances so that they could examine his reactions or dig through his brain. There were some injuries to be healed, yes, and it would take his body and brain a while to adjust to being out of that environment, to no longer being a prisoner, an  _ experiment _ , but it was  _ over. _

Except it wasn’t.

For the first day after he got out of the healing pod, he was fine. Well, at least as fine as anyone expected him to be. He ate, he drank, he fell asleep on the sofa while watching a movie with the other paladins. He woke up from a nightmare a little while later, and Shiro helped soothe him back to sleep. There were bound to be issues, but physically, he was doing well.

Until the next morning when he started to shake. At first it was just his hands, during breakfast, and he ignored it, hiding them in his lap. By the time he got back to his room, though, the tremors had taken over his entire body, and he was  _ cold _ . And  _ hot. _ Back and forth, freezing and sweating, changing so fast that he couldn’t keep up, with the full-body shivers persisting through both. Instead of putting on his armor for a trip to the training deck like he had planned, he ended up climbing into his bed and hugging his pillow to his chest. 

The longer he sat there, the worse he felt. His head started pounding, his stomach churning, and the ache from his head slowly spread until it encompassed nearly his whole body. It was like the last time he had gotten the flu, out at the shack, but  _ worse. _ He debated whether he should go to the infirmary and see if Coran had any medicine to give him, but the thought of walking that far made him want to crumble.

Then every other thought was overtaken by the distinct feeling that his breakfast was not going to stay down much longer. Shooting his legs out straight, he pushed himself off the bed and stumbled forward until he hit the wall, then forced his body to change momentum despite the swirling in his head and propelled himself along the wall toward the bathroom.

He barely fell to his knees in front of the toilet in time. The food goo that he had eaten that morning came back up his esophagus, burning the whole way, and forced its way out of his throat with a vengeance. 

For an eternity he hung there, heaving. Once he had spit out the last of what seemed to be coming, he fell back against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him, and shakily wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. The muscles in his stomach protested against the strain he had just put them through.

“Keith?” a voice called from inside his bedroom. “You in here?” 

A second later, Lance appeared in the bathroom doorway. “Whoa, dude. You look like death warmed over.” Walking closer, he paused at the toilet, made a face, and hit the button to flush it. “Probably feel like it, too, huh?”

Keith groaned in reply, his head lolling to the side. “Threw up.”

“Yeah, I saw that.” Lance crouched down in front of him and put a hand to his sweaty forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

He scrunched his face up in a frown. “Feels like it.”

Before Lance could reply to that, his stomach lurched again, and he lunged forward onto his knees to retch into the toilet again. Lance’s hands found his hair, smoothing it back from his face and stroking tenderly.

“You’re okay, just let it out. That’s it. It’ll be over soon.”

Of all the people to treat him like that, he’d have never expected it to be  _ Lance _ . Most of the time the Blue Paladin acted like he hated him. But it felt so  _ nice _ . He felt cared for in a way that he hadn’t ever...well, no, someone else  _ had _ done this for him once, now that he thought about it. A foster mom, a long time ago. And maybe his dad, too, an even longer time before that.

When there was nothing left for his stomach to give up, he returned to his place against the wall, pulling his knees up and resting his forehead on them. Lance moved away for a moment, then placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Here you go, man. Thought you might want to clean up a little.”

Keith raised his head to see a wet cloth held out to him. He took it gratefully, wiping off his hands and the back of his neck before cleaning his face. “Thanks,” he whispered hoarsely. 

“Wonder what brought this on. Space flu? Something you caught while you were…?”

But Keith had realized something during the last few minutes, and that was that he had felt like this before. In his cell, with the druids. He had gotten sick, but it hadn’t lasted too long because someone had shown up and given him…

“I need...I need the medicine.”

“Yeah, dude, we should definitely get you some medicine. I was just messaging Coran, actually -”

“ _ No _ . That’s not...I need the  _ medicine.  _ The stuff...the  _ quiet  _ medicine.”

Lance frowned, tipping his head to one side. “Quiet medicine? I have no idea what that is.” 

Groaning, Keith scrubbed at his face with both hands. His head hurt  _ way  _ too much for this. “It’s the...they gave it to me. Like, a shot.” He mimed pushing the plunger on a needle with his fingers. “When they wanted me to be quiet and cooperate.”

For a long moment Lance just gaped at him. “You’re...you’re talking about  _ drugs _ . They  _ drugged  _ you, Keith.”

“I know,” he whined. “They shot all kinds of things into me. But the quiet medicine made the sick better.” He didn’t even care that he sounded like a toddler. He just wanted it to stop hurting.

“Did they give that one to you a lot?”

Keith nodded, then moaned and gripped his stomach when the nausea flared up. “A lot.”

“Then ‘the sick’ is probably actually withdrawals, I have a feeling. Come on, let me help you up and let’s get you to the infirmary.” 

Thankfully it wasn’t too far, and Keith managed not to throw up again until they got there. Coran was ready and waiting with his scanner, and confirmed Lance’s suspicions.

“So can we put him in a pod for that?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Coran twirled his moustache and gave Keith a sympathetic look. “We’ll have to wait for the drugs to run their course.”

The walk hadn’t done anything good for the way Keith felt. He was nearly writhing on the bed, sweat coating his skin, and the tremors were back. “Need...need the quiet medicine. Please, C’ran.”

“He wants the drug they gave him,” Lance explained quietly.

“Sorry, Number Four, no can do.” Coran leaned in, patting Keith on the head. “I don’t have any of that kind of drug here, for starters, and if we gave you some now it would erase all the wonderful progress you’ve already made!”

“It  _ hurts. _ ”

“I know, lad.” The advisor’s voice softened then. “Thankfully, I do have something I can give you to help ease you through this.”

While Coran prepped the syringe, Lance sat down next to Keith and took a hand in his own. “You’re gonna be okay, bud. We’ll take care of you.”

“Alright, lad. Just a bit of a prick.”

Keith didn’t flinch in the least at the needle going in. He had been pricked so many times as a prisoner that it was nothing to him. Whatever was in the syringe was certainly Altean science, because almost immediately, the nausea settled, the pain eased, and a pleasant, sleepy feeling came over him. 

“There you go,” Lance whispered as Keith’s eyelids fluttered shut. 

He could just barely decipher Coran’s voice through the haze brought on by relief and exhaustion. “This won’t be the last of his struggles with this. We’ll need to monitor him around the clock, and make sure he stays hydrated. But he’ll be alright. It’ll take a few quintants, maybe a movement, but he’ll be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you a sickfic fan? This one worked better than usual for me because it involved the non-con drugs. A little closer to my usual whump fare that way.


	23. Exhaustion/Sleep Deprivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today’s fic features young, black haired Shiro, and wittle baby Keef!
> 
> As a side note, I just wanted to clarify that all of these fics take place in different universes (I don’t think poor Keith would survive all these things actually happening to him in one universe!). I say that because even though I most definitely subscribe to the headcanon that Keith experienced some not so great foster homes (as I’m sure you’ve noticed), I don’t stick with any specifics. So you’ll likely never see me mention the same foster home twice.

**Day 23 - Exhaustion/Sleep Deprivation**

**Warnings:** foster homes, referenced child abuse

“Hey, kiddo. You fall asleep waiting for me?”

Lifting his head from his arms, Keith blinked up at Shiro, then scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “No. Just resting.” There was no way he could fall asleep, not with the way his brain was running in circles at ninety miles per hour.

Shiro frowned, settling down onto the bench next to him and resting a hand on his upper back. Keith tried to hide his flinch at the touch. “You look exhausted, bud. Everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just, you know...nervous about the exam, I guess.”

His newfound mentor smiled knowingly. “Nerves keep you up last night? I can’t count the number of times that’s happened to me.”

Images and sounds from the night before flashed through Keith’s mind, and he barely held back a shudder. “I guess. Mostly, just, you know...studying.” 

“Couldn’t resist last-minute cramming, huh?” Shiro’s smile widened, and he ruffled Keith’s hair. Despite the friendliness of the gesture, his spine stiffened, waiting for it to turn painful. “I told you you had this in the bag. I’m certainly not gonna blame you for studying hard, though. As long as you at least got  _ some  _ sleep.”

The truth was he had only gotten an hour at the most, but he really didn’t want to tell Shiro that. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be waiting for an answer.

Standing, he reached a hand down to Keith with a smile. “Ready to ace this?”

His stomach turned a flip. Ace it. Shiro expected him to  _ ace  _ it. He  _ had  _ to ace it, no matter what Shiro expected, because acing it was the only way the Garrison would look twice at a foster kid with a record like him. If he didn’t ace it, he’d be stuck in  _ that house _ for the foreseeable future, or sent back to the group home, which was almost as bad.

Which is why he desperately needed to have spent as much time studying as Shiro seemed to think he had. He  _ wanted  _ to be studying that much. He just...couldn’t.

Now he had taken far too long to respond, and Shiro was giving him an odd look. “You sure you’re okay, Keith?”

“Mm-hm.” His head ached fiercely and he felt like he might implode from sheer exhaustion at any second, but those were the kinds of things that adults didn’t care about. All they wanted to know was whether he could do the tasks he was supposed to do, and the answer to that was yes. He hoped. 

Taking the offered hand, he stood from the bench. Immediately the room swirled around him, and his knees buckled. He vaguely heard Shiro shout his name from a distance before his head smacked into something hard and everything went dark.

When he opened his eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling greeted him. He blinked, trying to sort through the fuzziness in his head, until the smell of antiseptic assaulted his nose and woke him further. It smelled like the doctor, but why was he at the doctor he  _ hated  _ the doctor and he was supposed to be taking his entrance exam…!

“Hey bud.” Shiro’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. “How’re you feeling?”

“Why ‘m I here?” Keith mumbled, then brought his hands up under him and pushed himself up, disregarding the way his head throbbed and swam. “What happened, what about the exam? I can’t miss the exam!”

“Whoa, whoa!” Hands came down on his shoulders, preventing him from standing. “Calm down, buddy. You had some kind of fainting spell and hit your head pretty good on the floor. You need to take it easy.”

“But the exam,” he protested, breathless. “I  _ have  _ to take the exam, I  _ have  _ to!”

“And you will. Just not today.”

Keith’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“I’ve already talked to the officer in charge of admissions. They’re gonna give you another chance to take it in two weeks.”

Two weeks. Keith slumped over, releasing his breath with a  _ whoosh _ . Two extra weeks in  _ that house _ , but also two extra weeks to study. This time, he’d make sure he actually could. Somehow.

“Keith...are you sure you’re not sick?”

He shook his head, slowly. “No. Just...tired. Like I said.”

Shiro studied him, making him want to squirm. “How much sleep did you actually get last night?”

Keith looked down at his fidgeting hands. “Some.”

“What about the rest of the week? Have you stayed up studying every night?”

“No,” he answered far too quickly. It was the truth, he hadn’t stayed up studying. That wasn’t the reason he hadn't slept. 

“Keith.” He couldn’t meet Shiro’s gaze, despite his firm tone. “Something is going on here. People don’t just collapse for no reason, and you’ve got huge bags under your eyes. Talk to me.”

He swallowed. “It’s just...hard to sleep. Sometimes.”

“Yeah?” Shiro’s voice had softened. “Why’s that? Nightmares?”

“No.” Yes, but not always. “My…” He didn’t want to say it, but he had to say  _ something.  _ “My foster parents fight.”

“Oh. I gotcha. And that keeps you awake?”

The way that Shiro just took the answer in stride made him pause. There was no sigh, no eye roll, no insistence that he was overexaggerating or that he shouldn’t make excuses for himself. Nothing like how many social workers and teachers had responded to his complaints over the years...before he learned to stop bothering to complain about anything that wasn’t life-threatening. It put a little spark of hope in his chest. Before he knew it, more of the story was spilling out.

“Yeah. They, um. They yell a lot, and sometimes...sometimes he throws things? So it, you know, it gets pretty loud. It’s been...worse. This week. And I’m the oldest there, so...somebody has to watch the babies, and make sure they stay in their room and don’t cry. He hates it when they cry. I don’t want them to get hurt.”

Shiro’s face was etched with concern. “Does he hurt them, ever?”

“Um...no, he...he hasn’t. Yet. I just...I don’t trust him.”

“I understand.” Shiro nodded, and Keith felt like he really, actually did understand. “I need you to tell me something, though. Has he...ever hurt  _ you? _ ”

“Um.” He continued staring at his fingers, heat creeping into his face. He’d known the question was coming, eventually. He  _ thought  _ he could trust him enough to tell the truth. It was just...scary. He wasn’t used to trusting anyone. 

The answer came out just barely above a whisper. “Sometimes.”

Shiro’s voice dropped in volume, too. “Can you tell me about it?”

“He…” His shoulders drew up around his ears. “Sometimes, when they’re fighting, she’ll leave. Like, get in the car, and...and drive off. And a lot of times...he’s not done. He’s still mad. So...so he…”

“He takes it out on you.”

Keith nodded slowly. “Yeah.” 

“What does...he do?”

He hesitated, torn between wanting to say and thinking he shouldn’t, but finally decided just to show him instead. Shuffling around on the bed, he eased his shirt up until his back - and all the marks on it, a few old and many new - was mostly bared.

“Keith,” Shiro breathed.

Yanking the shirt back down, he turned quickly and shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m okay. And that wasn’t even last night, it was...I don’t know, a few nights ago, I guess. Last night nothing really happened besides them fighting, I was just…” He cut his eyes to the side. “I was scared.”

“Hey.” A gentle hand was placed on his knee. “I’d be scared, too. And it  _ is  _ a big deal. Nobody should be allowed to hurt you like that. That’s not okay.”

Keith shrugged again. “I thought...I thought if I could pass this exam and get into the Garrison, then that’d be over, so I figured I’d just put up with it until then. But every time I try to study, I get interrupted by them fighting, or telling me to do chores, or...or the babies need me, or...something.” Tears pricked at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Shiro. I really tried to do my best.”

“Hey, listen kiddo. You don’t have to apologize to me.” The hand still on his knee squeezed. “I want you to get in for  _ you, _ not for me. And it doesn’t sound like any of it was your fault. Including today.” 

When he looked up, Shiro was smiling sympathetically at him. “You’re  _ exhausted, _ Keith, and I don’t blame you. But hey, now you’ve got two more weeks to get ready for the exam, and in the meantime, I think you and I should go and talk to your social worker. I know it’s a pain to have to change houses again, but I don’t want you staying there anymore. Or the other kids, either, if we can help it.”

Keith nodded, though a bit reluctantly. “Yeah. I guess that’s probably best.”

“And maybe this time around I can actually help you out with your studying a little. If whoever you’re staying with next doesn’t mind, maybe you can even spend the night at my place a time or two. Make sure you get some sleep in a place that’s nice and quiet.”

Though he could hardly believe what he was hearing, Keith found the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “Yeah. That...that sounds really nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love wittle baby Keef. I just want to take him home with me and give him all the love.


	24. Forced Mutism/Blindfolds/Sensory Deprivation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda got way too into writing this one. I just wanted to keep going and going, really could have added more than I did, and couldn't figure out where to end it...then I realized that tomorrow's prompt was perfect for a part 2. So that's what I did. Yay, our first ever part 2! Anyway, check the warnings if you don't mind some mild spoilers, this one does get a little rougher than some but ahh...I think it's one of my favorites. And it's a good thing so many of you said you love platonic Kidge because here it comes again!

**Day 24 - Forced Mutism/Blindfolds/Sensory Deprivation**

**Warnings:** restraints, torture, sensory deprivation, electric torture, dislocation, muzzle, broken bones, mild blood

Pidge was getting aggravated. Scratch that, she was way past the point of aggravation, she was  _ ticked off _ . It had been four quiznaking days since the quiznaking Galra had captured her, and she had just been sitting in this quiznaking cell ever since, for no quiznaking reason. Nobody had even come to see her! No threats, no questions, no torture, nothing. What was the quiznaking point of capturing a Paladin of Voltron if you were gonna just ignore her?

Not that she was, like, dying to be tortured or anything. More than once since her arrival, screams had echoed down the hall, sending shivers down her spine and making her stomach turn somersaults. 

No, the thought of being tortured definitely terrified her. But she was getting pretty sick of sitting in an empty cell with her ankle chained to the wall. The only interaction she’d had so far was with the stupid sentries that brought her food, and they couldn’t carry on a conversation to save their precious Empire. She was  _ lonely _ , okay? Yeah, she was an introvert who could spend days on end locked in her room, but that was on her terms, and she had her computer and projects to keep her company. 

At least being lonely meant that she didn’t have to worry about any of her teammates. They were out there, looking for her, she knew it, and that was the best place for them to be. If any of them had ended up in there with her and got hurt...she didn’t know what she’d do. They were her family. Yeah, she still believed Matt and Dad were out there, and she was bound and determined to find them. But this team was her family, too, in a weird and wonderful way, and she’d do anything to keep them safe. 

Finally, on the morning of day five, the cell door creaked open, and somebody who actually wasn’t a sentry stepped inside. 

“It’s about time,” Pidge snapped before the soldier even had time to speak. “You guys don’t get in a hurry around here, do ya?”

The Galra - a lieutenant by the design of his armor - was taken by surprise for an instant, but quickly recovered with a smirk. “My profuse apologies. We’ve had...other pressing matters to deal with. But rest assured, you have our full attention now.”

Pidge gulped. Well  _ that  _ wasn’t really what she wanted. But she wasn’t going to let  _ him  _ know that. She lifted her chin. “Good.”

His smile grew. “Since you’re so eager to see me, should I assume that you’re ready to cooperate?”

Crossing her arms, Pidge narrowed her eyes. “Never. I don’t even care what it is you want from me.”

“A list of planets that have joined your Coalition,” he immediately replied. “See, nothing too complicated. Not even anything to do with your beloved Voltron.”

“Yeah right. I told you, it’s not happening.”

“Very well.” The lieutenant nodded amiably. “I had a feeling that would be your answer. That’s why I came prepared.” Leaning back, he knocked twice on the wall next to the door.

Pidge sneered. “It doesn’t matter what you bring in here, I’m not gonna -”

She cut off her own tirade as two grunt soldiers appeared, dragging and then harshly shoving something very person-looking onto the floor. It wasn’t until the something had tumbled a couple of times and came to a halt facing her that she was absolutely sure that it was a person. A very human-like person. A very battered person. 

He wore only a pair of tight black pants that reminded her of her own flight suit, and all his skin above that was painted with purple and blue and even black in some places. More disturbing than that, though, was what covered his entire face. A blindfold, for starters. And over his nose and mouth, a hideous metal contraption with thick straps holding it in place. 

It was a  _ muzzle.  _

Pidge was already feeling nauseous at seeing this guy’s state. But then she noticed the hair. And that’s when her stomach plummeted to her toes. 

“ _ Keith? _ ”

It couldn’t be him. He wasn’t supposed to be here. She would have  _ known _ if he had been here the whole time, being... being hurt, being  _ tortured... _ oh  _ quiznak,  _ it hadn’t been him she had heard screaming...had it?

“Ah, so you do recognize him.” The lieutenant chuckled, crossing over and nudging at Keith’s metal-covered chin with the toe of his boot. “It is a bit difficult with his... accessories.”

“What did you  _ do  _ to him?  _ Keith _ !” She didn’t even care that the tears clogging up her throat were very much audible.

“Oh, don’t strain yourself trying to get his attention, dear. He won’t be able to hear you.” Crouching down, he grabbed a handful of that unmistakable black hair and yanked until Keith’s head and shoulders were up off the ground and his face was turned to the side. A muffled moan came from under the muzzle, and Pidge’s heart squeezed.

“You see this?” The Galra pointed to Keith’s ear, where she could just barely make out something purple. “Blocks all sound.” He released the hair, and Keith’s head dropped to the concrete floor with a crack that made her flinch. “Just like this blocks all light -” he ran a finger over the blindfold -“and this, of course, keeps him from speaking.” He grabbed the muzzle and shook it. “He can still make some quite delightful sounds, though. All of it works together to make doing things like this so much more entertaining.”

One of the soldiers stepped forward, producing a long stick from somewhere on his person and jabbing it into Keith’s ribs. It crackled with purple lightning, and he screamed, writhing on the floor.

Pidge lurched forward, despite already knowing that her leash wouldn’t let her reach him. “ _ Stop!  _ Stop it, don’t  _ hurt  _ him!”

The lieutenant laughed aloud. “It’s perfect, isn’t it? He has no idea what’s coming for him and when.”

The rod made contact again, at his waist this time. The sound that came out of him was  _ awful _ , literally the worst thing that Pidge had ever heard. She glared at the lieutenant through tear-filled eyes.

“You’re a monster.”

He flashed her a brilliant, sharp-toothed smile. “Thank you. I do try. Now…” Standing, he strode a few steps in her direction. “Would you like to reconsider telling me about those planets, or should we continue?”

_ No! _ she screamed inwardly.  _ No, you can’t make me choose. This is the fate of the universe we’re talking about here, but he’s...he’s my brother!  _ A brother that maybe she didn’t know all that well, considering how they both sucked at social interactions, but that just meant she understood him more than the others. Besides, she knew enough. She knew he was brave, and painfully shy, and had a heart of gold beneath his tough-guy exterior. She knew he  _ didn’t deserve this.  _

But what could she do? As much as it killed her, she couldn’t throw away the safety of millions of people for him. There was no guarantee they’d actually stop hurting him, anyway. And if they did...he’d never forgive her. Keith  _ always _ put the safety of others before his own.

“Well?”

Gritting her teeth, she kept her eyes on the terrified, trembling boy on the floor. “I  _ can’t _ .”

“Very well, then.”

She expected the rod again, but instead both of the soldiers went at him with their heavy boots, pounding the toes into his already destroyed flesh over and over again. He made no noise after the first couple of strikes, only curled in on himself as best he could with his hands cuffed behind his back, instinctively trying to protect his organs. It didn’t matter, though, the sounds the boots made against his body were bad enough. She was pretty sure she heard the pop of ribs breaking. She thought she might puke.

Instead, she sank to the floor with weak legs, crawling forward until the chain was taut and she was as close to him as she could get. The tears that had flooded her eyes until then spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. 

_ Keith.  _ She wanted so badly to be able to reach out, to comfort him, to let him know she was there. But he wouldn’t know it was her, even if she could. He’d probably flinch away, thinking she was yet another who meant him harm.

“I wonder what he’d think,” the lieutenant began, as if reading her thoughts, “if he knew you were here. If he realized that you had the power to make this stop, that all of this pain was  _ your fault _ .”

The barb struck true, but Pidge clenched her fists and refused to let it embed itself any further. “ _ Your  _ fault,” she growled. “This is  _ your _ fault, not mine. You’re the monster here.”

Rather than answering, he reached up and grabbed a chain from the ceiling, pulling it down with a deafening rattle and hooking it onto Keith’s manacles. Taking his cue, grunt soldier number one crossed to a crank on the wall and began to turn. The chain slowly retracted, taking Keith’s wrists with it. Pidge slapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a sob as she saw him realize what was happening and scramble to get his feet under him, slipping back onto his knees more than once before he succeeded, and swaying heavily once he finally stood.

The chain kept going. They weren’t satisfied once it was pulled taut, they kept cranking until he was forced to bend over forward with his arms straight out behind him, and Pidge was worried his shoulders were going to come out of their sockets.

“Stop.  _ Stop it _ ! That’s  _ enough! _ ”

The grinding of the crank halted, and the lieutenant turned to face her. “Yes? Was there something you’d like to share?”

Pidge deflated from where she had risen up on her knees. “N-no.”

“Hm.” He waved a hand at the soldier, and the crank was turned one more time. Keith’s head fell further down.

Grunt soldier number two took the rod and thrust it straight down into the center of his back. Keith almost fell, but somehow managed to lock his knees in the midst of shaking and screaming. 

Pidge’s fingernails bit into her palms and her teeth into her bottom lip. She couldn’t even imagine how that felt on his spine, not to mention the jarring on his overextended shoulders. 

She  _ hated _ this. The names of the planets he wanted to know were right on the tip of her tongue, a whole list that she had memorized long ago. All she’d have to do is say  _ one,  _ and they’d at least give him a little bit of a break, right?

But just one name meant thousands, possibly hundreds of thousands of people facing this kind of violence in retribution for joining the Coalition. 

It wouldn’t be the boy who she saw as a brother. 

But it would be equally as horrible for so many others. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself for that, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to for this, either. 

And she was growing more uncertain by the minute that Keith would forgive her for this.

“Are you sure you have nothing to say?”

Pidge stared straight ahead, refusing to answer.

Circling to the other side of his prisoner, the lieutenant jerked Keith’s head up by his hair again, putting untold strain on his neck. A quiet whimper came from behind the muzzle. “You know, it is a bit of a pity that we can’t see his facial expressions. I just love seeing the pain in their eyes.” Drawing his fist back, he slammed it into the only exposed skin on Keith’s face, his cheekbone, snapping his entire head to the side. When he released his hair, letting his head drop back down toward the floor, there were multiple strands of black hair still stuck between his fingers. Pidge watched them flutter to the floor with a knot in her chest.

“Will you leave him  _ alone? _ I’m not going to tell you  _ anything! _ ”

“Sorry, dear. No can do. You have to give me something if you want something in return.”

Grunt soldier number one suddenly came back to life, kicking Keith’s knee out from under him. The kick itself probably didn’t hurt. The subsequent stumble that dislocated his shoulder with a loud, sickening  _ crack _ did.

“ _ No! _ ” Pidge cried, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out his wail. “ _ Keith! _ ”

“Anything to say?”

“I hope you  _ rot! _ ” she shrieked, lunging forward as if she could get her hands around his throat. “When our team finds us, and they will, I will make sure that you die a  _ slow  _ and  _ painful  _ death!”

The lieutenant threw his head back and laughed. “You’re cute. Maybe once I’ve gotten what I want from you, I’ll just keep you for entertainment. My little pet.”

Keith was still trying to struggle back onto both feet. His breathing was ragged, audible even through the metal, and he trembled even harder than before.

Glancing at a screen on his wrist, the lieutenant sighed. “Unfortunately, I have other matters I must attend to. This seems like as good of a time as any to leave you two to think for a while. Rest assured, I will be back soon.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Pidge with a raw, bleeding ankle and tear-soaked face, and Keith still in a stress position with no senses, wondering when the next blow would come.

“Keith,” she whispered into the once again quiet cell. “I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, another cliffhanger, but you actually get more tomorrow! There is light at the end of the tunnel!


	25. Disorientation/Blurred Vision/Ringing Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 from yesterday's sensory deprivation chapter is here! We pick up right where the last one left off, but switch to Keith's POV this time.

**Day 25 - Disorientation/Blurred Vision/Ringing Ears**

**Warnings:** restraints, stress position, muzzles, burns, dislocation, sensory deprivation, referenced torture

  
  


Everything hurt.

The hundreds of bruises all over his body throbbed. His legs, arms, and back ached from the position he had been forced into for so long. Several places on his torso burned where the cattle prod, for lack of a better term, had been used. There were stinging lines etched into his face from the metal muzzle. His ribs protested every time he took a breath. And his shoulder…

His shoulder was definitely the worst of it all. Dislocated. Screaming at him constantly for relief, but with his arms wrenched up behind his back so far that his head hung down by his knees, there was no relief to be found. It didn’t help that every time he thought he saw something move or heard some small sound - which was impossible, he hadn’t seen or heard anything real in...he didn’t know, probably  _ days _ \- he couldn’t help but flinch, which made pain flare in pretty much every part of his body.

The blindfold was still soaked with the tears that had escaped during the last torture session. He wasn’t sure whether anyone had noticed that he was crying or not, but it wasn’t like it really mattered. They had seen plenty of weakness from him. He had definitely screamed, even if he hadn’t been able to hear it. 

What mattered, though, was that he had stayed strong during the first couple of days when they had pressed him for information about the Coalition. He didn’t give in. All that had gotten him was into the situation he was in now, but it was okay. Yes, he hurt, and he was hallucinating, and he had no idea who or what might be around him at any given time and was scared out of his mind that the torture was going to start up again any second, but it was okay. As long as all of those people stayed safe. And Pidge.

She was here somewhere. He knew she had been captured at the same time as him, though he wasn’t sure whether she knew that he had been right behind her. For days he had hoped against hope that they were leaving her alone, that all of the attention they were giving him meant that they hadn’t gotten to her yet and she would remain unharmed until the team could come rescue her. He couldn’t stand the thought of any of what had been done to him happening to her.

Then they had moved him into another room. He didn’t know where, of course, but he knew that they walked him a distance that was mostly straight and longer than the length of his cell. Nothing really new had happened once they got there, just more of the same shocks and kicks and general torture. But something about the way there were long pauses in between, and sometimes even in the middle, made him think of an interrogation. Only he, for obvious reasons, couldn’t be interrogated. So were they using him to interrogate someone else? 

The realization that he could be being used against Pidge made his stomach drop. He didn’t think she’d cave on his behalf, she was much too strong and smart for that, and he doubted he meant enough to her to even think of risking so many other lives, anyway. But she was still just a kid. They all were, technically, but she was the youngest of all of them. She didn’t need to have to watch something like this. 

Plus, selfishly, he hated the thought of being seen in such a weak state in front of anyone, especially someone he knew and...and cared about.

Things had been quiet for a while. Well, maybe quiet was the wrong term to use, since he had been living in absolute silence other than the roar of his own blood and the rush of his own labored breathing for what seemed like ages. If somebody didn’t remove this blindfold and earplugs and muzzle soon, he was pretty sure he was gonna go mad.

But it had been a while since anyone had touched him. A fact he should have been grateful for, and he was. It was difficult, though, not to focus on the part where someone  _ could  _ touch him again, at any time, and he would have no idea it was coming, and it was guaranteed to hurt. He  _ hated  _ it. Hated this waiting, this not knowing, this constant adrenaline pounding through his veins because even if he wasn’t in a stress position he wouldn’t have been able to relax, every inch of him tense and expecting the next blow.

When something finally changed, he flinched just as hard as he thought he would, then moaned through his teeth at the pain in his shoulder. It took a moment for him to realize that the movement had come from his wrists, and that they were slowly being lowered. Gratefully, he let his arms drop until they rested against his back. His shoulder eased from a stab to an ache.

But he didn’t have the strength to stand upright himself, and without the chain holding him in that position, he began to topple without a way to stop it. He expected to smash into the floor. He was sure they’d enjoy watching that.

Instead, he fell against a body, a  _ small  _ body, that barely kept him from face planting and lowered him to his knees. Why, he didn’t know. He didn’t have the mental energy to try to figure out why or who, not when he was too busy waiting for the pain.

Something touched the sides of his head, and he jerked backwards, biting back a whine when it jarred  _ everything.  _ The something - hands, probably - persisted, following him. Keith forced himself to freeze in place, every muscle tense, and just wait for whatever it was they were gonna do to him next. It would only hurt worse if he resisted.

The hands fumbled at his temples for just a tick longer before the blindfold was suddenly ripped off. The light that flooded in was  _ blinding. _ Crying out, he ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut. They were so  _ dry,  _ from crying and from not sleeping in forever, it felt like his eyelids were full of sand.

_ Come on, you finally get the advantage of seeing what’s coming, now open your eyes!  _ But he couldn’t hold them open, not when there was suddenly so much  _ light _ , and even when the hands came back and tugged his head up so that he was facing straight ahead again, he couldn’t make out who or what was right in front of him. Everything was just a bright blur.

One of the hands went for his ear next, popping out whatever kind of plug they had stuffed in there, and the chaos that descended on his brain then was so much worse than the removal of the blindfold. Noise exploded into that one ear. Whatever was going on was the loudest thing he had ever heard in his life, and stabs of pain shot through his head. He doubled over, trying to get away, trying to hide, trying to press his ear up against anything that might block out some of the sound.

To his relief and slight confusion, his head was wrenched to the side and the ear plug was stuck back in. Silence fell. He lay there on his side with his eyes still closed, panting as best he could through the muzzle, trying to recover while the remnants of sound rang in his ears. This must have been the newest form of torture, suddenly giving back his senses, though he was surprised they hadn’t let him writhe longer. They probably didn’t want to give him the chance to get used to hearing again, so that they could keep doing it over and over.

Suddenly the link holding his manacled wrists together vanished. His hands were free. For a moment he froze, his brain swirling with pain and panic and trying to figure what the quiznak kind of trap this was, until his normal instincts took over. Squinting his eyes open as much as he dared, Keith sprang into action and  _ lunged.  _ They were going to regret giving him any kind of freedom. They were going to pay for what they had done. They were... _ Pidge? _

As soon as he had tackled the much-too-small assailant to the floor, his vision cleared enough to make out a familiar pair of brown eyes staring at him in fear from behind round lenses.  _ Pidge. _ She was here. And he had almost…

Scrambling frantically backwards off of her, he whimpered as his abused body hit the floor again, and cradled his injured arm to his side.  _ I’m sorry,  _ he wanted to cry.  _ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, are you okay?  _ But the stupid muzzle wouldn’t let him, and somewhere in the midst of his panicking he realized that she was actually speaking. He blinked, narrowing his eyes at her mouth and trying to make out her words through his still blurred vision. 

_ “You’re okay,”  _ she was saying.  _ “Keith, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted you to know it was me.” _

He gave a meek, wobbly nod to let her know he understood. He wouldn’t have known how to not freak him out, either, so he didn’t blame her. It was just good to see her. 

Pidge scooted closer to him on her knees, slowly, as if not to spook him.  _ “The team is here.”  _ Ah, so that was all the noise he heard.  _ “They stopped by to give me this -”  _ she held up her bayard with a little wiggle - _ “so that I could break us out of here. If you’ll let me get that stupid contraption off of you, then we can go catch up with them. You can keep the earplugs in if you want.” _

He nodded again. Yes, he desperately wanted the muzzle off. And yes, he wanted the earplugs in. At least for now, until he could take them out in a quieter place. His ears were still ringing from having just the one out before.

She smiled a little crookedly, then crept around behind him and started fiddling with the straps on the back of his head. Even when he could see - sorta - and  _ knew  _ it was her, he still couldn’t help but stiffen at the contact. But a moment later the straps loosened, and he was able to reach up with his good arm and start to pry the muzzle off his face. The metal pulled against raw skin. 

Pidge reappeared to help, though he had to quickly grab onto her wrist to keep her from pulling too fast. Her eyes widened in surprise as they caught his. Seeming to understand, she went back to work slowly with a furrowed brow that deepened as she realized she was also pulling a bit out of his mouth. As soon as the hated thing was off, she pitched it across the room, glaring at it as if she wanted to slice it apart with her bayard.

“Thanks.” He didn’t have to be able to hear his voice to know that it came out as little more than a rasp.

She turned back to him, a frown on her face.  _ “I’m really sorry, Keith. You shouldn’t have had to...that was  _ awful _. I wanted to help you, I really did, but they wanted me to -” _

“I know.” He swallowed past the sandpaper in his throat, wincing, and held her wrist again, gently this time. “The Coalition. They asked me, too. You couldn’t help me. It’s okay.”

_ “No, it’s  _ not _ okay.”  _ He could see well enough now to watch the tears that spilled down her cheeks.  _ “They were  _ hurting  _ you. And I couldn’t do anything to stop them.” _

“It wasn’t your fault.”

_ “I know. But I still hated it.”  _ She paused, chewing on her lip.  _ “I really wanna hug you. But I don’t want to hurt you.” _

His lips twitched upward at the corners, and he stretched his good arm out toward her. Hugging wasn’t really his thing. But he knew how much a hug could mean to somebody who had just gone through something hard, and he wasn’t going to deprive her of that. Besides, it probably would do him some good, too.

Pidge very tenderly eased herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around him lightly so as not to bother his ribs. Keith dropped his hand down onto her back. The warmth of her body seeped through her flight suit and into his battered, bare skin, and it was more soothing than he had expected. With a sigh, he let his chin rest on top of her head.

When he stopped and thought about it, he was pretty sure this was his first one on one hug with Pidge. He had had a few “little sisters” over the years, more official than her according to the government, but she felt more like an actual little sister to him than any of them ever had. They spent time together fairly often, usually with him just hanging out in her lab while she either worked in silence or rambled about her projects, but physical affection hadn’t really been a thing between them. Maybe he should try to change that. This hug thing was kinda nice.

After a moment she pulled back, shoving her hand up underneath her glasses to wipe at her eyes. She smiled at him.  _ “Let’s get you out of here, ‘kay?”  _

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for happy endings!


	26. Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a hard time figuring out what to write for this one. I knew I wanted to use this alternate prompt as soon as I saw it, but there are sooooo many good possibilities for water whump! I could NOT make up my mind. So I went to @trope-appreciation-tuesdays again, which gave me even MORE ideas, but I finally ended up settling on a mashup between two ideas submitted by @aliceinwhumperland and @theironcarey. I was pretty happy with how it turned out!

**Day 26 (Alt 12) - Water**

**Warnings:** drowning, broken bones

Branches tore at his face and clothes, weird colored leaves sticking in his hair. Dodging left, then right, missing each tree by a fraction of an inch, Keith was racing quite literally for his life through the forest, and as fast as he was running he was pretty sure he was losing the race. After, all these psychotic aliens  _ lived _ in this forest. They knew it much better than he did.

He came to the cliff so suddenly that he almost pitched right over it, catching himself at the last moment on a tree. His stomach dipped down into his toes before righting itself. For a split second he just stared over the drop off into the sparkling green water below. The ocean.  _ Great. _

But there was no time to pause, no time to even look back and see how close the hoard of angry neon aliens had gotten. He didn’t need to, anyway. He could hear them well enough to know they were close,  _ too  _ close. Changing course, he took off again, parallel to the ocean this time. Maybe he could lose them. Maybe they’d think he fell over. Keith winced, not liking the thought of how close he had come to doing just that.

Then again, maybe  _ down _ was actually the best way to really lose them. The thought was ridiculously stupid, one of those ideas that would get him yelled at by the rest of the paladins. But this whole situation was ridiculously stupid, and if he could find somewhere that he could jump and  _ not _ land in the water...well, it seemed like a better option than getting mauled to death by aliens that looked like they belonged in a nightclub.

He found his opportunity a few long, breathless dobashes later. A glance over the edge showed that a ledge had formed about halfway down, one that  _ should  _ be wide enough for him to land on. From there, he would be able to contact the rest of the team, make sure they had gotten away, and get someone to come pick him up. As long as the neon aliens didn’t decide to leap off after him.

He gulped, and went for it.

The freefall was forever long and far too short all at the same time. Keith waved his arms instinctively, trying to keep upright in the air, planning on going into a roll as soon as he hit the ground.

What he didn’t count on was landing with his foot at a funny angle, instantly snapping his ankle. Nor did he expect that interrupted momentum to send him careening to the side, slamming his ribs into the side of the ledge before he tumbled over the side. Wide-eyed, he scrambled desperately for something to grab onto, but came up short. 

He was falling again, and this time there was only endless water below.

The surface came to meet him all too quickly, the impact bruising his spine. Instantly the water engulfed him. It was  _ freezing.  _ And he hadn’t gotten the chance to take a good breath, so already he was running low on air. 

As the light sparkling on the water began to draw further away, Keith kicked and flailed his arms, trying to get reoriented and keep himself from sinking further. Every kick sent pain shooting through his ankle. 

But somehow, it worked. Sorta. His face broke the surface for just long enough for him to gasp in a breath, but he ended up sucking in a bit of water, as well, as he immediately went back under. His lungs spasmed, desperate to rid themselves of the foreign substance. Frantically, he kicked again, and though this time only his hand surfaced, he felt something besides just air and water. Something  _ solid.  _

His hands went into overdrive as black spots started to dance in front of his eyes. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer, they found purchase, and he gave everything he had left to haul himself upward.

Glorious  _ air  _ brushed cold against his face. Keith spluttered, coughing up the water that had been sloshing in his lungs and sucking in gulps of air in between. His chest hurt from the exertion, and that wasn’t even to mention the bruised or cracked ribs on his left side.

When he was finally able to draw in slightly rattling breaths without going into another coughing fit, he finally looked around to see where he had ended up. It seemed to be the opening of a cave. The sea went right up into it, but maybe further in there would be some dry land, which sounded glorious right about then. 

Slowly, hand over hand, he began to make his way deeper into the cave along the wall. Twice his fingers slipped, and he almost plunged back down into the water. Each time he had to stop, take a breath, and try to stop his heart from pounding out his chest. He  _ hated  _ big bodies of water. Not that he was  _ scared  _ of them, he just...didn’t know how to handle them. And so far this whole experience was close to the top of most terrifying moments of his life. He did  _ not  _ want to go back under. 

After what seemed like an eternity, he reached what he had hoped was the back of the cave. Unfortunately, up close it was clear that it merely went around a bend and kept going, with no end to the water in sight. There was no dry land. Nowhere to rest. 

It was then, thankfully, that his comm crackled to life.  _ “Keith, do you copy?” _

Thankfully because he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to hang there, and thankfully because he hadn’t been sure after that spill in the ocean if his comm was even still working.

“I’m here.”

_ “Thank goodness.”  _ Shiro sounded more than relieved.  _ “I’ve been trying to get you to respond for several dobashes.” _

“Sorry.” Keith attempted to adjust his grip on the stone, wincing. “Kinda got wet. Might have taken a bit for my comm to dry out.”

_ “What do you mean, you got wet?”  _ Lance broke in.

Shiro ignored the interruption.  _ “Most of us are back in the Lions. We have to swing by and pick up Hunk. Where are you?” _

“Um.” Suddenly he was quite aware of how embarrassing his situation was. “I’m...in a cave...in the ocean?”

There was silence over the comms for a moment. Then,  _ “Mullet, please don’t tell me you jumped in the ocean to get away from the nightclub aliens.” _

“ _ No, _ ” he shot back a bit too quickly. “I didn’t jump in the ocean. I...fell.” It was mostly true. And possibly a worse admission than agreeing with Lance, but he couldn’t  _ stand  _ the tone of voice he was using.

_ “Are you okay?”  _ Shiro immediately asked.

“Mostly. A little banged up, but I’ll survive.” He’d get lectured later for calling a broken ankle and cracked ribs “a little banged up”, but that was better than making Shiro worry.

_ “Alright. I’m gonna send Lance to come pick you up, since his Lion will be best if he needs to land in water.” _

He wanted to protest. Like, really  _ really  _ wanted to protest. Lance was the  _ last  _ person that needed to see him right now. But Shiro had a point, Blue was the best Lion for this situation, so he snapped his jaw shut and locked it.

Lance spent the entire flight crowing and preening via a private comm channel over the fact that  _ he  _ was coming to rescue  _ Keith  _ from an embarrassing predicament that  _ Keith  _ had gotten himself into. For his part, Keith just gritted his teeth and bore it in silence, while trying his best to keep his exhausted, trembling arms from giving out and dropping him back into the frigid water. His lower body had long since gone numb. The good news was that that meant his ankle was mostly numb, too, only occasionally giving a throb to let him know it was still broken.

“Are you almost here?” he eventually growled. 

_ “What, you in a hurry, Mullet?” _

He wanted to say, “Yeah, I am. Did I mention that I was  _ in the water? _ ” But that would have just given him more fuel to make fun of him. 

Instead, he griped, “The planet isn’t  _ that  _ big.”

_ “Well  _ excuse  _ me, but the shoreline is pretty quiznaking long. All you told us was ‘in a cave in the ocean’. I’m still looking.” _

Which, that was fair, he guessed. Not that he would ever tell Lance that. And not that his body agreed. “Maybe if you’d stop talking you could concentrate better on looking.”

_ “Or maybe if  _ you  _ would stop talking to  _ me,  _ I- oh wait, I think I see it!” _

Sure enough, the unmistakable  _ whoosh _ of a Lion’s flight was drawing nearer. “I hear you. You’re definitely close.”

A moment later, Blue’s face filled the opening of the cave. Lance promptly began cackling. _ “Holy crow, Mullet, this is the best moment of my life. You look like a drowned rat!” _

Keith glared, which probably didn’t look all that menacing considering the circumstances. “Ha, ha, very funny. Now are you gonna come in and get me?”

_ “Sorry, bro, no can do. This is as far as Blue goes. Shoulda picked a bigger cave.” _ He still hadn’t stopped laughing.

“Yeah, but...ugh.  _ Never mind. _ ” No way was he handing Lance any more ammo. His arms would just have to deal with it. 

His fingers had gotten so cold that they had gone stiff and didn’t want to let go of their hold to start with, but he pried them off and began to painstakingly make his way back toward the entrance. Inch by inch, knuckles aching and muscles quivering the whole time.

_ “Dude, are you seriously gonna crawl along the wall the whole way?” _

“Shut up, Lance.”

A minute of silence. His ribs were starting to smart again, stirred up by the movement.

_ “Oh my _ stars, _ this is gonna take all day! What are you  _ doing? _ ” _

“I said shut  _ up _ , Lan ce!”

_ “No, I’m not gonna shut up, this is ridiculous! What are you, Spiderman, now? Why don’t you get off the quiznaking wall and  _ swim? _ ” _

“If you’re just gonna sit out there and do nothing but watch, then you have no right to compl-” 

Mid-sentence, his broken ankle bumped up against the rock and his vision whited out. The next thing he knew, water was up over his head again. Panicked, he tried to pull himself back up by the one hand that hadn’t lost its grip, sliding the other one frantically around the wall until it found another handhold and he was able to haul himself out. He came up gasping, coughing, and spitting once more.

“You okay there, Mullet?” Lance’s voice came echoing through the cave a few seconds later. Glancing over, Keith saw him sitting up on Blue’s nose.

“‘m  _ fine, _ ” he spat. He was shivering so hard that he wasn’t sure whether he could keep crawling.

“You got a water phobia?”

“ _ No. _ I’m not  _ scared,  _ I just...just no. Shut up.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you sure looked scared. And if you’re not  _ scared,  _ then why wouldn’t you just swim over here like a normal huma-”

“Because I _ can’t _ , okay?” Keith exploded. “I...I just can’t, so leave me alone and let me get there my own way.”

He kept still, despite that demand, still not able to will his arms into moving again. Amazingly, Lance stayed quiet for longer than expected.

“Did you hurt yourself and lie to Shiro?”

“ _ No. _ ”

Lance groaned. “Then I don’t get why you can’t swim -!” He paused. “Wait. You... _ can’t swim.  _ Is that what you’re telling me?”

No, no, that was  _ not  _ what he was telling him, that was the  _ last  _ thing he wanted to tell  _ him _ , of all people, the three time swimteam champion and competitive surfer. But if he continued denying it he would just sound stupid. 

“So what if I can’t? I grew up in the middle of the desert, okay? There was no need to know how to swim.” And no one who cared enough to teach him, for most of his life.

There was silence again, and Keith couldn’t bring himself to look at what kind of face Lance was making at this new revelation. For all he knew, he was laughing so hard it wasn’t making any sound. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Then there was a  _ splash _ , and Keith snapped his head around to see Mr. Three Time Swimteam Champion popping back up out of the water next to Blue and shaking his sopping hair around.

“Dude! This water is  _ freezing! _ ” 

“Thanks for pointing that out. I hadn’t noticed.  _ What  _ are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Lance started swimming straight toward him with strong, steady strokes. In seconds - covering a distance that had taken Keith  _ forever _ \- he was stopping right next to him, treading water. 

He grinned. “I’m coming to rescue you like I was told.”

Keith clenched his jaw and stared hard at the rocks. “I don’t  _ need  _ rescuing.”

“Oh, okay, so should I just go back to Blue and fly away and leave you to do this yourself?”

He wanted to bash his head against the wall. He didn’t think he had the energy. “ _ No. _ Ugh,  _ fine. _ I need rescuing. But you didn’t have to get in the water and come all the way in here. I could have handled it.”

“Sure you could.” Keith could hear the eyeroll without even looking. “Look, dude. You can’t swim. That’s okay. It’s not your fault no one taught you, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I grew up on the beach, so of course I know how. You don’t have to pretend like you’re something you’re not just to save face.”

That...was not at all the reaction he’d expected. He kinda wondered if maybe all the water he had inhaled had gotten to his brain, or if the neon aliens had gotten to Lance and done some kind of body swap.

“And besides,” Lance continued, “even the best trained swimmers would have a hard time after being in this temperature water for as long as you have. Which means we should, you know, get going before  _ I  _ can’t swim, either.”

He still wasn’t sure what in the world had brought on this...kind? understanding? very un-Lance-like response, but he wasn’t going to argue against getting  _ out  _ of the water. Even if it did mean having to let Lance drag him around like a little kid.

“Okay. Fine. How...are we gonna do this?”

Lance grinned again. “Well, I’m thinking maybe if we put our arms around each other like this, so we can each use one arm, and we can both kick…” He threw his arm around Keith’s torso, drawing an involuntary hiss as it bumped into his sore ribs. Lance just stared at him, one eyebrow tilted up.

Keith looked away. “I...may have possibly lied to Shiro.”

“ _ And _ to me.” Lance sighed dramatically. “Fine, so you busted your ribs or something. Any other injuries I should know about?”

“I may have also possibly broken my ankle.”

“Seriously, dude? Alright,  _ don’t _ kick with that leg, then.”

“I can -”

“I said  _ don’t. _ ”

Keith glared at him. “Fine.”

“Good. So, you just move your free hand like I’m doing, and kick your  _ uninjured _ leg up and down, and I’ll do the rest. Got it?”

“Got it.” They adjusted until they were in position and were ready to take off toward Blue.

“Hey Mullet?”

“What.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

Somehow, he was pretty sure based on the tone that this was more about his refusal to accept help than the whole falling into the ocean thing. He kinda owed Lance a thank you. He definitely would if he actually managed to get them back to Blue without drowning. 

What he actually said was, “Takes one to know one.”

He was pretty sure based on the tone that Lance would know what he meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're both idiots. But we love them anyway.


	27. Extreme Weather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote an entire fic for this that was a part 2 for Abandoned on day 8, with a part 3 to come later, but I wasn't overly happy with it and decided ultimately that it would flow better if there was no middle part. There will still be a part 2 (only, no part 3), but not for another couple of days. So, I deleted that entire fic and started over and wrote this. Which meant that I had less time to work on this one, as I'm already catching up with myself and hoping that I don't have to put off any updates! I'm not necessarily entirely happy with how this one turned out overall, but I do like the middle at least and I hope you guys enjoy it regardless of my feelings.

**Day 27 - Extreme Weather**

**Warnings:** hypothermia

“Pidge, radar  check.  It looks like the temperature is dropping rapidly.”

_ “Okay, just a se _ _ c...holy crow, you’re right. Storm coming your way, fast. You guys need to find shelter  _ now. _ ” _

That was all the warning they got before the wind hit. It howled across the plain with all the fury of a hurricane, so loud in his ears even through his helmet that he could barely hear Shiro’s voice shouting over the comms. 

_ “If we can get to the other side of this hill we should be out of the wind.” _

“Roger!” Keith yelled back. It wasn’t like they had much choice in moving that direction, anyway. The wind was shoving them along, causing them both to have to lean backwards into it even while running to keep from tumbling over.

They were almost to the small mountain when the storm fully arrived. Suddenly the air was filled with so much white that Keith couldn’t see his hand in front of his face, and he had lost sight of Shiro completely. 

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t see, either.  _ “Just keep moving forward! Once we get there we should be able to work our way around to the other side by feel.”  _

Keith furrowed his eyebrows. As long as neither of them somehow missed it and wandered off into the open plain on the other side...but they were close enough that it  _ should  _ be fine. He hoped. And they both had on their armor, which was made for much colder temperatures than this in deep space, so even if they did get lost they probably wouldn’t die. Probably. As long as a hundred other variables didn’t happen.

_ “I can hear you worrying from here. Just keep walking, Keith.” _

“ _ You  _ just keep walking,” he lamely replied.

The good news was, he found the mountain. “You here yet?”

_ “Yep. Turn east, that’s the closest end.” _

“Got it.” 

The bad news was, after several long, stumbling minutes of walking blind with one hand trailing the face of the hill... _ something _ happened. He wasn’t ever really sure what. All he knew was that suddenly his feet were flying out from under him, and he was smacking face first into some unseen object hard enough to make his forehead impact with the inside of his helmet. Before he could reorient himself, Shiro was nearly tripping over his feet.

_ “You okay? What happened?” _

“Think I hit a slick spot, or a root or something. I’m okay. Just watch your step for the next couple of feet.” Pushing himself back up, he shook his head slightly to rid himself of the slight dizzy feeling, then kept moving forward.

It seemed to take  _ ages, _ but they eventually turned a  corner and had the wind at their backs again. It was only a few paces more from there until they turned again and the world fell relatively calm. There was snow shooting around the sides of the hill just behind them, and it was still swirling in the air all around them. But he could  _ see _ again. 

And one of the things he could see was a little starburst cut into the center of his faceplate.

At first he thought it might be a snowflake, and tried to brush it off, but no, there was definitely an indentation there, and maybe even a longer crack coming off from the center. Whatever he had hit must have been sharp to do that kind of damage to a  _ space  _ helmet. It wasn’t a big deal, though. Yeah, the display inside his helmet was fritzing a little, but he could just rely on Shiro’s information until they got back to the Castle and could get his helmet fixed. 

There was no reason to tell Shiro. Then  _ he  _ would just be the one excessively worrying.

_ “Did you guys make it?”  _ Pidge asked.

Shiro nodded.  _ “Yep. Looks like we’ll just have to hunker down here until the storm passes.” _

_ “Could be a while by the looks of the radar. I’d offer to come pick you guys up, but…” _

_ “No. There’s zero visibility out here. Stay put, and we’ll do the same.” _

He looked over at Keith and gave a smirk.  _ “It’s not like we’ve never had to kill time together before.” _

Huffing a small laugh, Keith settled back against the rocks, folding his arms over his chest. “View here’s not quite as nice as the Garrison roof.”

Now Shiro smiled for real.  _ “Nope. That view was definitely the best.” _

They sat mostly in silence for the next several minutes, just staring out into the strange patterns of whirling snow. It seemed so natural to feel cold while watching a snowstorm that Keith didn’t even think anything of it until a shiver shook his body. That’s when he finally realized that something wasn’t quite right.

He was  cold. Not only cold, but goosebumps were forming on his skin underneath his flightsuit. That shouldn’t happen. The whole thing was designed to regulate his temperature. He had floated out in open space before and felt perfectly comfortable, so there was absolutely no reason that a snowstorm should have made him cold.

Unless the armor or the flightsuit was compromised, of course. Like, say, a crack in the helmet.

He didn’t want to tell Shiro. He knew he really should.

“Um.” He cleared his throat, nonchalantly tried to rub a little warmth back into the part of his arms that wasn’t covered by armor. “Don’t like, freak out or anything -”

_ “What is it? What’s wrong?” _

Keith rolled his eyes. “I said  _ don’t  _ freak out! It’s not a big deal, okay? I just wanted to let you know that, uh...I think I may have cracked my faceplate when I fell earlier? And it’s possible there’s some air leaking in.”

_ “What?” _ Shiro was in front of him immediately, clapping his hands onto either side of Keith’s helmet so he could tilt it up toward him. That close, he could actually just make out his voice over the wind without using the comms. “Keith, why didn’t you tell me as soon as you noticed?”

“Who says I didn’t?”

“Me, because I know you. Do you  _ see _ what the temperature is out here? ‘Some air leaking in’ is not good!”

“Um, no, I don’t see. My, uh...display has kinda been on the fritz ever since it happened.”

“ _ Keith! _ ”

Jerking his head out of Shiro’s hands, he glared up at him. “I’ll be fine! I’m just a little  cold, that’s what made me realize. It’s nothing to worry about, though. It’s not like the air is toxic.”

Shiro gave him one of his patented stern dad looks, which then fell into the even more common - at least around Keith - exasperated dad look. “You let me know as soon as you start feeling any colder.”

“Yeah, sure.” He was already feeling colder than he had at the beginning of the conversation. But it wasn’t like there was really anything Shiro could do about it. They couldn’t walk through the storm, and no one could come get them. He’d just have to deal with it.

Unfortunately, his thoughts of not actually telling Shiro anything didn’t work out, because he sat so close that their arms were touching and could feel when he started full-on shivering. To his credit, though, he didn’t say anything. He merely nudged Keith forward a little and swung one leg around behind him, pulling him up close to his chest and wrapping his arms around. It was awkward with the bulky armor and the jetpack, but Keith imagined he could feel the tiniest bit of warmth on his arms where Shiro’s rested on them.

It didn’t really help anything. The temperature inside the helmet was still dropping quickly, the cold creeping down his body and seizing every inch of skin and muscle. He couldn’t stop shivering. 

After a few minutes, Shiro muttered something under his breath and pushed Keith gently forward, beginning to unbuckle his armor at his shoulders and sides. He pulled off just the back portion, and did the same with his own chestplate, before hugging him close again. 

He could feel the pressure, which was nice against the tremors wracking his body. He could  _ maybe _ feel a little bit of the body heat. The problem was, the suits weren’t just meant to keep out  _ cold _ temperatures. It was going to take a whole lot more than body heat to get through two of them.

“Pidge, tell Lance to be on standby in his Lion. As soon as there is any kind of break in the storm, I want him to get to our location as quick as he can.”

_ “Roger that.” _

“Keith, bud? Do you think you can cover up the crack with your hand any?”

“I c-can t-t-try.”

His arm didn’t want to cooperate. When he finally did get it to raise, it was shaking too badly to keep it in one place. Shiro must have seen his struggle, because he reached up and grabbed onto the hand, pressing it in close to the helmet. 

“Is here good?”

“Y-ye-ah, I...I… ’s good.”

It was a bit hard to keep track of time. The snow kept flying by in mesmerizing loops and waves, and the two of them sat silently with both of their hands pressed over half his faceplate. Gradually, numbness began to steal over him, replacing the cold with blissful  _ nothing. _ Even his shivers calmed, leaving him exhausted but relieved to be done with them.

“Keith. Keith, you still with me?”

“Hm? Yeah. ‘m good. Feel...better. Stopped shivering.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s not good. Don’t you remember the Garrison training?” Shiro’s free hand began pumping up and down his arm vigorously. “You’re okay, though. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you warmed up.”

Keith wasn’t really sure which of them he was trying to reassure. Personally, he was feeling too sleepy to care much about any of it anymore.

“But whatever you do, don’t fall asleep on me, okay? You can’t fall asleep. Talk to me, Keith.”

“You’re not my dad.”

Shiro chuckled. “Oh, yeah? Well, tell Lance that. He’s the one that’s dubbed me ‘Space Dad’.”

_ “Whaaat? That was totally not me, that was...that was Hunk!” _

Oh, apparently Lance was on comms now. Probably waiting in his Lion like Space Dad had said.

_ “Are you kidding me? That was most definitely you, and we all know it,”  _ Pidge butted in.  _ “But seriously, Keith, listen to Space Dad. Don’t fall asleep.” _

“‘m sleepy, though.”

_ “Well, wake up! Hey Shiro, got any embarrassing stories you can tell us about Keith?” _

“Oh boy, do I ever. How about the time when he was sparring with this kid named Brandon, and -”

“ _ Daaaad _ ,” Keith whined. “Be nice to me while I’m dying.”

Shiro’s tone suddenly sobered. “You’re not dying, Keith. You’re gonna be just fine.”

_ “Yeah, Mullet. Even if I have to figure out how to activate a snowplow feature on Blue, we’ll come get you before anything happens to you. No dying today.” _

Everyone fell quiet, and through the slight haze in his brain Keith wondered if he had done something to upset them. It wouldn’t be the first time, and probably not the last. Just as he was thinking of apologizing, Pidge spoke back up, as perky as before.

_ “So. I’m pretty sure Keith hasn’t heard yet about what you did in the kitchen the other day, Lance.” _

_ “And he doesn’t need to! Ever! Too many people know about that already! I mean...nothing happened in the kitchen the other day, what are you talking about?” _

Pidge launched into her tale, Lance protesting all the while and Shiro laughing along. It actually did keep his mind feeling more alert, as did Lance’s answering story of something Pidge had done back in their Garrison days...to start with. By the end of it, though, heaviness had started to overcome him, inviting him to sink down into deep, comfortable darkness.

On the edge of his consciousness, he thought he could feel someone shaking him, and Shiro’s voice calling his name. He tried to answer, he really did. But his tongue had already succumbed to the heavy sensation, and all he could do was give a little hum. 

Then Pidge’s voice came, curiously close to his ear.  _ “Uh, guys? Red just left her hangar.” _

_ “She what?” _

Lance’s voice, also really close. What were all these people doing in his ear?  _ “Yeah, I see her! She’s like...wow. She’s just burning a path through the storm. I’ve never seen anything like it. And she’s moving  _ fast. _ ” _

The body he seemed to be leaning against heaved a giant sigh and relaxed.  _ “Thank you, Red,” _ someone whispered.

That was the last thing he was aware of for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It does say "for a while"!! So it leans more toward happy than ambiguous!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has a little bit of similarity to yesterday's, but I like it much better. Also, it's been several days since I was really mean to you guys, so...check that "ambiguous ending" warning. I mean, it really leans more toward "bad ending" than anything else, but you are free to imagine a happy one if you'd like.

**Day 28 - A** **c** **cidents**

**Warnings:** similarities to car/plane crash, blood, broken bones, impalement, talk of death, self-sacrifice, ambiguous ending

The first thing that Keith noticed as his awareness trickled back in was that the artificial gravity inside Red’s cockpit wasn’t working. Or at least, that’s what he assumed, since one side of his body felt curiously heavy, like he was dangling in midair.

The second thing was the silence, broken only by a consistent  _ drip, drip, drip. _

The third thing was pain.

He couldn’t really pinpoint it to one particular spot, it just  _ hurt,  _ all over. He also couldn’t remember anything that had happened in between the battle that they had been fighting against a Galra fleet, and waking up.  _ Something _ must have happened. Probably something bad, considering the amount of pain he was in.

Prying open his eyes - well, one of his eyes, anyway, the other seemed to be stuck shut - he found himself looking at a darkened windscreen. The whole cockpit was dark, in fact. Nothing lit up on the dash, no warm red overhead light, no alarms…

_ Alarms.  _ Suddenly a memory stabbed through him, of alarms wailing and sensors flashing frantically, of himself pushing multiple buttons, hoping for some kind of miracle, while simultaneously pulling back on the controls as hard as he could and watching an unknown planet come spiraling toward him at full speed…

He gasped as the dark, still cockpit came back into focus, causing a wave of pain through his torso. Right. No idea still what had happened to make him and Red lose control, but they had definitely crashed. First things first, then, he needed to check on her and see if she was responding at all.

“Red.” His voice sounded  _ awful. _ Some kind of liquid had pooled in the back of his throat, and he was forced to cough it out before he could continue. Fire spread through his body as it was jolted. “Red, you there? Can you hear me at all?”

Holding still and closing his eye, he waited for her familiar warmth to brush up against his mind, reassuring him that she would be alright after a little bit of rest. But it didn’t come. Instead, he thought he might have felt the tiniest little nudge, much more like a sickly kitten than a proud lion. Just enough to say,  _ “I’m still here,” _ but also enough to tell him that she was in really bad shape.

Keith opened his eye again, lifting a stiff, sore arm to wipe at the sticky substance that was still keeping the other one glued shut. It  _ burned _ when he tried to blink it open, and after hissing in a breath, he ended up just keeping it closed.

Now that he was a bit more awake, he could take in just how bad Red’s state really was. The whole front of the cockpit was  _ crumpled.  _ He didn’t even know it was possible for the Lions to take that kind of damage.

“Oh, Red,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, girl. I’m sorry.”

There was no response that time.

Gathering his courage, Keith started the process of assessing his own situation. First of all, he was still seated in the pilot’s chair, hanging sideways like he had surmised at the beginning, which meant that Red had landed on her side - probably after initially crashing headfirst, based on the way she was crushed. The position was far from comfortable, putting strain on his neck and back.

Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to remedy that, because the completely obliterated dashboard was sitting on his lap, pinning him in place. The simultaneous good news and bad news was that he couldn’t feel anything from that point down. 

The stuff he had scrubbed off his eye was blood. It was also what was making that dripping noise, as it rolled down from some unknown point on his head, across his eye, down to his temple, then dropped to the wall that was now the floor with a wet  _ plop.  _ He wasn’t sure he really wanted to attempt to see how big the puddle down there was. As for the wound itself, his best guess was that a piece of shrapnel had managed to fly up under his partial faceplate and leave a cut. With his whole head throbbing, it was hard to tell anything for sure.

His left arm was broken. Or at least, that was the diagnosis he was going with after he attempted to move it and ended up screaming. All he could really tell from looking at it was that it was  _ not  _ the shape it should be, and he decided right away that he was just going to keep it right where it was, dangling awkwardly off the side of the chair or not.

He didn’t want to look at his stomach. It had been gradually establishing itself as the most intense of all the pains, and he knew it was going to be bad way before he looked at it. But he had to. He needed to know what he was dealing with, if any of this was going to be survivable or not. Steeling himself, he looked down.

It was bad. Like, even worse than he thought it was going to be bad. There was a huge piece of metal, coated in his blood, sticking out of his stomach. For an eternally long moment, Keith just stared at it, trying to wrap his brain around it. 

Okay. Right. So, he’d been impaled. That was a lot of blood. A whole lot more than was coming out of his head, that was for sure. He was pretty sure that it was going all the way through his body and pinning him to the chair, like those butterfly specimens that one of his teachers used to keep on display. He was also pretty sure that it had missed his spine, though that could definitely change if he moved around any.

It had not, however, missed vital organs. There was no way it hadn’t cut through at least a couple. That bitter tasting liquid from before bubbled up in the back of his throat again, as if to confirm it, as if to say, “Yep, Keith, you’re definitely dying!” Coughing it out jiggled the metal inside of him and made him whine.

So, yeah. He was dying. That was a thing. Even if the other Paladins could find him and get to him, they probably wouldn’t be quick enough, not with the way he was losing blood.

It didn’t really surprise him. Death had followed Keith around for most of his life, hiding in the shadows, waiting for it to be his turn to go like so many others had. Besides, now he was in the middle of a ten thousand year old war. Death happened all around him, every day. He knew it would be his turn sooner or later. And the sooner part wasn’t surprising, either, given how reckless he knew he could be. 

Like you know, jumping out in front of a zaiforge cannon to keep it from hitting Lance. He was pretty sure now that that’s what had happened.

He also had always figured that he would die alone, and that’s pretty much how he was. Though...maybe there was a chance that he didn’t have to be.

“Red. If you’re...if you’re running any kind of systems right now...any repairs you’re trying to make, or anything...divert that power to comms. I know...I know you need help. I promise, you’ll get it. The team’ll find you, and Pidge and Hunk will be able to fix you right up. I promise. You...you’ll be okay. They’ll make sure you go on to fly another day. But...for now...I really, really need this. If you can.”

He still didn’t feel anything from her, but a moment later static began crackling in his ears. Keith gave a tired smile. “Good kitty.”

It took a few seconds for the static to clear up, but he could soon hear the familiar shouts of a battle. At first he just shut his eyes and listened, letting his teammates' voices wash over him. When there was a lull, he cleared his throat. “Guys? Can you hear me?”

_ “Keith?” _

_ “Keith!” _ __  
  


_ “Keith, is that you?” _

_ “Holy quiznak, you’re alive!” _

_ “You  _ idiota  _ quiznaking  _ estúpido - _!”_

He winced at the volume that pierced through his aching head, but was quick to jump back into the conversation. “Hey, yeah, I’m here. It’s me.”

_ “Oh, thank the Ancestors, Keith, we were so afraid of what had happened to you when we saw the Red Lion go down and you failed to respond!” _

_ “ _ Por qué _? Why did you flippin’ jump out in front of me,  _ idiota _? What were you trying to prove, huh?” _

“Nothing! I wasn’t...wasn’t trying to prove anything, I just...I saw the cannon, I saw you...I didn’t really think, I just...acted.”

_ “Yeah, that...seems to be a thing with you,”  _ Pidge quipped.  _ “Hunk, on your six!” _

_ “Keith. What happened? Where are you?” _

Leave it to Shiro to finally cut to the chase. “Red and I crashed. Not sure where. She’s gone dark, I can’t see anything outside.”

_ “Number Four, when you say the Red Lion has ‘gone dark’...what extent of damage are we talking about here?” _

Keith grimaced. “It’s bad. I can barely feel her. The only reason my comm is working is because I asked her to divert whatever power she had left to it.” Yikes, he maybe shouldn’t have admitted that part. “Her front’s all busted up. No telling what kind of hits she took everywhere else.”

_ “So, you can’t like, get out and look at where you are?”  _ Lance asked.

_ “Pidge, you’ve got two fighters coming your way. Keith, he’s right, if we could get a location on you we can come pick you up whenever we get the chance.” _

“Uh, yeah. About that, it’s, uh…” To tell the truth, or not? Now was the time to decide. “I’m kinda...pinned. When I said Red’s front was busted up, I...the dash is...yeah.”

The silence only lasted a few ticks.  _ “That sounds bad, that’s like, really bad, isn’t it? What does that mean, anyway, you’re  _ pinned _?” _

_ “Hunk, less worrying, more shooting!” _

_ “How bad is it, Keith? What are your other injuries?” _

Because of course Shiro would automatically assume there are other injuries. Another chance to choose whether to tell the truth.. “Well, um...it’s not...great, um…” 

_ “Not great? What...what does that mean?”  _ Hunk was still apparently doing just as much worrying as shooting, the poor guy. And Keith would have attempted to answer him, but he was a little busy trying to breathe through a sudden rush of pain through his middle that made all the noises sound more like high-pitched whines for a minute.

When his hearing returned to normal and he could kind of breathe again, he was being bombarded with frantic voices all trying to get him to respond. “I’m here,” he croaked. “Sorry. I was...just…”

_ “Pidge, there’s absolutely no way you can get a location?” _

_ “Not while she’s powered down. If he could get her to divert power from the comms to her tracker for a minute -” _

“No!” That came out far too forcefully, and it hurt like heck, but he couldn’t lose his connection to the team, he  _ couldn’t _ . If he cut the comms he might never get them back, and...and he’d die alone, in silence. “No, it’s...you don’t need to do that. I’m okay. You’re already down one Lion, you can’t afford to lose any more for a rescue right now. Just focus on your battle.”

No one spoke for a minute, other than calling out the occasional warning or fight maneuver. Keith knew they were realizing that what he said was true, and he was glad. He was already starting to get lightheaded and have a hard time breathing. If they sent someone after him, it would be for nothing, and they might lose the fight, or worse, lose another paladin.

_ “Talk to me, Keith. You still haven’t told me what your other injuries are.” _

Closing his eyes, he drew in a stuttering breath. “Yeah, well...don’t wanna make Hunk queasy while he’s fighting.”

_ “Keith…” _

“It’ll be okay, Shiro. Don’t worry about me. I just…” Wanted some company. “..didn’t want…” To be lonely. “...to miss out when you beat these guys.” The last victory he’d be a part of, even if he had let them down for the majority of the battle.

_ “Well, then maybe you shouldn’t have jumped out in front of a  _ zaiforge cannon _! Which I have now destroyed, by the way, _ de nada. _ ” _

Keith grunted a laugh, wincing when it pulled at his stomach wound. “Well if I hadn’t, then it’d be you down here.” And he could handle the thought of himself dying a lot better than any of them. “So  _ de nada,  _ yourself.”

Lance was shooting something back, as usual, always ready with a retort, but Keith’s hearing was fading in and out with his vision. A wave of dizziness came over him, and he let out a quiet groan.

_ “-ith?” _

“Still here.” Even he could tell that his voice was much weaker than before.

_ “Stay with us, buddy. Try not to fall asleep.” _

“M’kay. Gonna try. Kinda...losin’ some blood here, so…”

Someone who he was pretty sure was Pidge swore loudly.  _ “We need to find him.” _

“Nope. Don’t...don’t need to find me. Need to fight. Stop worrying about me.”

_ “You’re gonna have to get over it, we’re  _ going  _ to worry about you!” _ Pidge practically shouted.  _ “You call us and tell us you’ve crashed your Lion and are pinned in your seat and bleeding and you keep randomly switching from talking to moaning and you think we’re not gonna  _ worry  _ about you?” _

Guilt threaded its way into his chest. He shouldn’t have called. He was distracting them, he could get them killed. Besides the fact that he was making this way harder on them than it needed to be, making them listen to him as he struggled through his last moments.

“‘m sorry. I shouldn’t have...I’ll just go. You guys need...to focus.”

_ “Keith, no!” _

_ “No! No no no, don’t go, you’re good, okay? We’re focused. You don’t worry about us, okay? You just concentrate on staying awake, and we’ll concentrate on fighting, and we’ll talk at the same time. Okay?” _

Keith’s eyes slipped shut with a combination of relief and exhaustion. “Yeah. Okay. Just...just don’t lose focus. Don’t want any of you...getting hurt.”

_ “We’re good. I promise.”  _ There was a pause before Shiro continued.  _ “Can you promise me the same? That you’re gonna be okay?” _

He didn’t know what to say to that. He hated lying to Shiro. Besides, his head was spinning so much now from blood loss that any words he came up with almost immediately got lost again.

“Hey, Sh’ro?” he finally managed. 

_ “Yeah, bud?” _

“R’member when...I stole your...car?”

It seemed like it was taking Shiro a really long time to respond, but that could have just been because he was drifting in and out of consciousness.  _ “Yeah, bud. That’s kinda hard to forget. You sure knew how to make a first impression.” _

A smile played at the corners of Keith’s lips. “But you...you were my friend. Anyway. E’en though...I did that. And I was...a jerk.”

_ “You weren’t a jerk. Well, okay, maybe a little. But I could tell it was all a front.” _

“You were...were the only one who...ever tried. I don’t know if I...ever...said thank you.”

Shiro’s voice sounded strange when he spoke again.  _ “You don’t have to, buddy. Being your friend is my pleasure.” _

The other Paladins had fallen strangely silent, not even calling out maneuvers anymore. He hoped they were still listening. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to them, but he knew it needed to be something.

“Thank...all ‘f you. For...bein’ friends. Good...good friends. Like fam’ly.”

_ “Keith.”  _ Hunk’s voice had that unmistakable wobble to it that meant he was crying or about to.  _ “You’re killing me here, bud. You’re our family, too.” _

_ “No, shut up, don’t encourage him!”  _ Pidge growled.  _ “This is  _ stupid!  _ You sound like you’re saying goodbye and you need to  _ shut up,  _ because we are  _ coming to get you _ , do you hear me?” _

Leave it to Pidge to think she could threaten him into living. “You...you can’t.”

_ “Excuse you, what the heck do you mean we  _ can’t? _ ” _

The end of Lance’s demand was drowned out by Keith falling into a coughing fit, worse than the last two combined. He could feel the metal ripping further into him. Eventually the fit dwindled into a long whimper, one that he didn’t really want the team to hear but couldn’t help.

_ “...Keith?” _

“You’ll be too late,” he whispered, too tired to keep up the lie any longer. “I’m...bleeding out.”

_ “I’m going down there right now. I don’t care if I have to search the entire planet, I am not staying up here while he’s down there dy-”  _ She cut off abruptly.

_ “I’m coming, too. Lance, Hunk, you’ve got this handled.” _

_ “Yes, they’ll be fine, and will have backup from the Castle. Go find Keith.” _

They were such good people. Better people than he had deserved to have in his life. He was pretty sure he was slipping away, and pretty sure that he wouldn’t wake back up. But he was doing it with a fond smile on his face. “Love you guys,” he breathed.

.

.

_ “Keith?” _

_. _

_. _

_ “KEITH!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorrrryyyyyyyyyy
> 
> (but not too sorry)


	29. Wound Reveal/Ignoring an Injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, quick explanation of the next few days. I started writing Abandoned Part 2 for today's prompt. It's turning into a monstrosity. I ended up deciding that I was going to need some more time to finish it, and skipped to write the other 2 days first. So today's fic is actually the prompt for Day 30, and tomorrow's will be the prompt from Day 31. Day 29's prompt, the Abandoned sequel, will be on the last day. Everybody capiche? 
> 
> Without further ado...Keith is an idiot, an ongoing saga.

**Day 29 (No. 30) - Wound Reveal/Ignoring an Injury**

**Warnings:** explosions, stab wounds, blood

The stitch in his side kept getting worse the longer they ran. It was odd, considering he didn’t usually have that issue, but he attributed it to some muscle he had pulled the wrong way when fighting with that Galra lieutenant and just kept running. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Pidge and Hunk had planted explosives all over the base, and they had less than a dobash left to clear the area before they went off.

Bursting out the front door of the building, Keith and Lance dove behind the boulders where Allura, Pidge, and Hunk were already waiting, just in time for the detonations to start. Heat washed over them as the ground shook.

“Cutting it a little close there, were we?” Pidge quipped.

Lance scoffed. “Maybe, but you have to admit that would have been an  _ awesome _ action movie sequence right there.”

Still panting for breath, Keith cupped his waist where the pain was originating, only to feel a slight rip in the fabric. Startled, he pulled his hand back and saw that the fingers of his glove were wet.  _ Huh. Guess that lieutenant got a knick in, after all.  _ No wonder it had been hurting.

The base was fully obliterated, what hadn’t been blown into pieces now engulfed in flame. That took care of all the foot soldiers and sentries, as well as all the computers, weapons, and other technology that had been inside. However, it didn’t solve the issue of the fighters that had managed to escape just before the explosion and were now shooting down at them.

“Should we head back to the Lions?” someone shouted.

Keith turned to look for Shiro’s response and...everyone was looking at him. Right. He was the Black Paladin now. Everyone’s lives were in  _ his  _ hands, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Actually, he did know how he felt.  _ Wrong.  _ This shouldn’t have been his job, it should have been Shiro’s. He was no good at leading. Why Shiro and the Black Lion had ever chosen him, he had no idea.

But it was his job, like it or not, and so he had to step up and  _ lead. _ “Yeah. Everyone back in your Lions, and take on those fighters. Remember, they can still call for backup from their ships, so we need to take them down as fast as we can.”

With cries of agreement, everyone jumped up and ran off in their respective directions, holding up their shields and dodging laser fire as they went. Keith gasped involuntarily as he stood and pain shot through his middle unexpectedly. For just a scratch, that knife wound sure was acting up.

By the time he sank into Black’s pilot seat, it had gone from stinging to throbbing, and the pain seemed to be growing by the second. He pressed his hand up against it again. This time his whole hand came back wet, and he was pretty sure he could feel that same warm wetness leaking down inside his suit, too.

Apparently it was worse of a wound than he thought.

He had no time to worry about it, though. The other Lions had already launched. Shoving the controls forward, he ignored the way the skin pulled and steered Black into the thick of the fight. 

_ “About time you joined us.” _

“Sorry.” Normally he would snap right back at Lance’s insults, but now that he was leading - and doing such a poor job of it, most of the time - he generally felt he deserved them. “Allura, you’ve got a fighter coming in at two o’clock.”

_ “Already got it handled,”  _ Pidge announced as she swooped past and fired her laser.

Right. He’d just mind his own business and take out fighters, then.

They were down to the last couple of ships in a matter of minutes. Keith was looking forward to heading back victorious to the Castle and quietly slipping away to his room to check out his injury. 

But when had anything in his life ever gone the way he wanted it to? Someone had called for backup at some point, and now there was a cruiser and a whole new fleet of fighters to deal with. Immediately they were surrounded, and the cruiser was charging up its ion cannon.

_ “-ith! Sh-...-rm…-tron?” _

Keith shook his head, trying to clear it. There was shouting over the comms, but it sounded like it was coming from underwater. 

_ “Ke-!...-eed...us...do!” _

“Um.” The fighters looked like they were multiplying as he stared out his windscreen, wavering unnaturally. “I…” Glancing down at the video screens, he tried to gauge what was going on from his teammates faces, but they were distorted, too. “I don’t…”

_ “...nee-...-ze up...so…-pful…” _

_ “Jus-...-mation…-ltron!” _

The other Lions all took off suddenly, flying in a formation that seemed familiar, somewhere in the fog of his mind.  _ Voltron. They want to form Voltron. _ His movements were sluggish, but he managed to send Black forward to join them, taking his place in the lead. 

_ Black...I need your help… _

Voltron formed without him fully being aware of it happening. He wasn’t sure whether he had completely blacked out, or if his brain was just working so poorly that he couldn’t remember it after, but the next thing he knew was trying to steer the giant machine in the general direction of the cruiser. Easier said than done when said cruiser wouldn’t stay still, bobbing up and down and side to side like a yo-yo. 

The rest of the team was still yelling back and forth over the comms. Even if he couldn’t understand the words, he could still recognize the frustration in their tones, and was pretty sure it was directed at him. He didn’t blame them. He was letting them down, again. What could he say, though? He wasn’t sure whether he could even form words, and they seemed to be doing just fine without him directing. All he had to do was keep pointing Black in the right direction - and keep his shaking arms from going slack and slipping from the controls - and they were taking care of the rest, using Lance’s sword to slash a hole in the side of the cruiser, and Hunk’s shoulder cannon to take out multitudes of fighters.

They really didn’t need him at all. It should have been Lance or Allura who led. Not him.

He lost a chunk of time again just before Voltron disbanded, the disorienting feeling of his limbs being pulled away bringing him back.  _ Okay. Just have to make it back to the hangar now.  _ He thought he heard Black rumble in his mind, assuring him that they would get there.

The jolt of landing made him grit his teeth to keep from crying out. It felt like his entire side was on fire. He could vaguely hear the others leaving their Lions, mumbling to each other the whole time, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to move.

“Come on, Mullet, you can’t hide from us all day!”

The sudden, echoing voice from inside Black’s hangar made him jump, then squeeze the arms of the chair in a death grip as he rode out the wave of pain. Maybe it was because of the lack of other distractions, but he found it easier to focus on the words now. And they weren’t at all happy.

“Keith? We need to talk. Come on out, please.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah. C-coming.” 

One hand pressed to his side. One hand gripping the steering control. Stand up.  _ Don’t  _ scream. Don’t fall over. Helmet off. Walk to the door. Wait for Black to lower the ramp.  _ Don’t fall over. _

“What the heck was that all about?” Lance screeched as soon as Keith was in sight. “I know we told you your leading was crappy, but that didn’t mean we wanted you to just  _ stop leading! _ ”

Keith wavered, still on the ramp, and found something unseen to lean against. There was still blood oozing out around his fingers.

Allura cleared her throat. “Yes, I...I think what Lance is trying to say is, we’re not sure what happened out there, but we were left floundering a bit without anyone giving us any direction. Thankfully, all turned out well in the end, but something like that simply cannot happen again.”

She was right. It couldn’t.

“It was like you just...froze up,” Pidge offered. He tried to look at her, but she and Hunk seemed to be dancing around each other, switching places. It made him even dizzier than he already was.

“Yeah, big bad Mullet, scared of a bunch of Galra fighters.” There was a pause where no one said anything. “Well, come on, man, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

Keith opened his mouth, and left it that way for a moment as he desperately tried to force some words to come out. “‘m s’rry.” Spots swam in front of his vision. “I...think…’ve been stabbed.”

His knees buckled. Distantly, he thought he heard someone shout his name, but a second later the black spots had taken over and he was out.

When he next opened his eyes, it was to the sight of the front of a pod dissipating. He stumbled forward until a steady pair of hands latched onto his arms and stilled him.

“We really need to talk about your view of team leadership, Keith,” Allura’s voice said softly in his ear.

His heart sank. “I know.”

“Don’t you know that team leaders aren’t perfect, that they have to let their team take care of them sometimes?”

Keith froze, unsure if he was hearing correctly. Stepping back, Allura smiled gently at him, her hands still on his arms. “Next time, you should tell us that you’ve been stabbed  _ before _ you’re passing out from blood loss.”

Ducking his head, Keith let his lips quirk up just a little. “Yeah. I’ll...try to do that.”

“Good,” Lance declared from somewhere nearby. “Because I want that to be the  _ last time  _ that I have to drag your unconscious Black Paladin butt to the infirmary.”

Pidge scoffed. “You  _ so  _ did not do the dragging.” 

“Did, too!”

“Yeah, man, that was definitely Allura,” Hunk commented.

“I  _ helped! _ ”

Keith’s smile grew, and he shook his head. If they were going to give him another chance to get this whole leading thing right, then he guessed he could give himself another chance, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't decide between "doesn't know they've been injured" and "refuses to tell anyone they're injured"...so I just did a little of both.


	30. Experiment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried another new style for this one. It's not one that I would want to use for a fic any longer than this one, but it was interesting to do and I thought it worked pretty well for this. It certainly allowed me to include a longer span of time without writing a forever long fic.  
> Nothing at all is graphic in this, but you should still check the warnings because there's a lot packed in.

**Day 30 (No. 31) - Experiment**

**Warnings:** dehumanization, all of the following is referenced, not shown - human experimentation, muzzles, mild blood, needles, teeth pulling, respiratory distress, seizures, burns, broken bones, electrocution, surgery

DAY ONE

“New specimen, coded KK5738. Male, approximately twenty-one years old. Mother is full-blood Galra, father was full-blood human. The subject takes on the appearance of an Asian male - white skin, black hair, eyes...vary from grey to violet, depending on lighting. Height is approximately five foot eight inches, weight approximately one-hundred-forty pounds.

“We will begin with a general examination.”

  
  


DAY TWO

“You can’t do this! You will _not_ get away with this! You people are _sick!_ You’re all going t- _nngh hnnghaah!_ ”

“Subject KK5738 continually exhibits aggressive behavior, despite its restraints, including shouting and attempts to bite myself and my assistants. Measures are being taken to prevent this from happening any further.”

  
  


DAY THREE

“X-rays show that most of the subject’s internal organs are the same as a full-blood human. However, there appear to be two or more extra organs of unknown function, adjacent to the liver and intestines. Further examination is needed. Exploratory surgery has already been scheduled for next month.”

  
  


DAY FOUR 

“The subject possesses the most _fascinating_ blood I have ever seen. Results from the first sample have come in, which are detailed in Report 659. Today I will be taking several more samples for further testing.

“I will also be taking skin and hair samples. The skin sample will come from the inner right arm.”

  
  


DAY SIX

“I don’t know how you think you’re going to get away with this. I am a _U.S. citizen._ I am the _leader_ of _Voltron_ _!_ Yo- _hhha._ ”

“Subject KK5738 still shows defiance whenever given the opportunity to speak, though it seems to have weakened since the first day. This is probably due to the amount of time it has spent immobile.

“Currently its typical mouth guard has been changed out for a surgical gag so that we may extract teeth without being bitten. We will also be testing its jaw strength.”

  
  


DAY NINE

“That was the last injection.”

“Thank you. As will be detailed in Report...ah, 668, Subject KK5738 has now received the first twelve of the substance injections that we plan to test. Substances one, four, and seven caused no noticeable reaction. Substances...two, three, eight, and ten caused mild external reactions, as detailed in the report. Substances five and nine’s reactions were internal, monitored via MRI. Number nine we did have to administer an antidote to prevent further damage. Substance eleven caused the subject to vomit extensively. Substance number six had the most dramatic reaction, garnering the use of an epipen, and it appears that substance twelve will be similar. I’m seeing signs of respiratory distress already, and -”

“He’s seizing.”

“Alright, go ahead and give it. So the subject showed the most sensitivity to substances six and twelve. Specific symptoms will be listed in Report 668.”

  
  


DAY THIRTEEN

“Daily monitoring of the various wounds created on Subject KK5738’s thighs. The superficial cut through the first layer of skin has nearly disappeared. The one millimeter deep cut has completely scabbed. The five millimeter cut has finished sealing up, but has not yet started forming a scab. The two centimeter cut is still open, with no visible change. 

“The first degree burn is still peeling slightly, but the redness is no longer noticeable. The second degree burn is possibly slightly less red than yesterday, but the blisters have not changed. The third degree burn shows no visible signs of healing.

“Once everything is fully healed, tests will be performed to ascertain the damage to nerve and muscle in these areas. Unfortunately, it does not appear at this time that the subject has any accelerated healing abilities that could be useful for advancing our technology.”

  
  


DAY FOURTEEN

“Subject KK5738’s oxygen deprivation test showed that it can last thirty seconds longer than the average human male before losing consciousness. Further tests will have to be performed to determine why.”

  
  


DAY SEVENTEEN

“ _Aaahngh!_ ”

“We have just concluded our breakage tests for Subject KK5738’s bones. This included a finger, rib, radius, and femur. The exact pressure needed for each bone will be recorded in Report 682. Bones will be reset, and healing will be monitored.”

  
  


DAY TWENTY-FIVE

“So far the subject has responded well to the nutrient drip that it has been on since the beginning. Starting today we will be removing one of the nutrients...ah...protein, so that we can study the long-term effects. In a human, we would see swelling of the abdomen and extremities, as well as muscle weakness, brittle hair, and ridges in the fingernails. Maybe one day I’ll be able to run these same tests on a full-blood Galra for comparison. For now, we’ll have to see what this hybrid can tell us.”

  
  


DAY TWENTY-EIGHT

“The subject seems to have calmed, or perhaps weakened, to the point where the mouth guard is no longer necessary. We will, of course, keep it on standby in case this changes, or we require something to muffle its screams.”

  
  


DAY TWENTY-NINE

“Please...please stop...I don’t...I don’t _want_ it.”

“We are applying electrode pads to key points on the subject’s body so that we can proceed with our electric shock test.”

“Please, I just...I wanna go _home._ ”

  
  


DAY THIRTY-ONE

“Today we are monitori-...A-admiral! Sir!”

“At ease, Doctor.”

“What a pleasant surprise! To what do we owe the honor?”

“The hybrid specimen, of course. You’ve had it for a month now, and I’ve been keeping up with your reports religiously. I decided it was high time I come see it for myself.”

“Of course, of course. Well, here it is. Quite the specimen, is it not?”

“Well, it’s like you said...pretty much looks like an Asian kid.”

“True. But as I’m sure you’ve seen in my reports, there is so much that is _un_ -human about it. I honestly can’t believe it got away with passing for human for as long as it did.”

“I... _am_ human. And you...you people are _monsters._ ”

“Hm. I see you’re letting it talk.”

“Yes, sir. It seemed unwise to keep the mouth guard on it for such an extended period of time if it could be helped. I’ve been tempted to put it back on, to be sure, but I imagine that after a while of seeing that talking doesn’t get it anything, it will stop.”

“You’re just as bad as the Empire...you know that? You can’t...keep me here forever. _Someone_ will find me.”

“And just who is it that you think is even looking for you, hm?”

“Admiral, sir, I -”

“No no, don’t worry. I think this could help you with your little talking problem. Lieutenant, pull up the article for me.”

“ _Voltron_ is looking for me. My team...they’ll find me.”

“Your _team_ thinks you’re dead. The whole _world_ thinks you’re dead. Here, see this? ‘Black Paladin Killed in Crash to Earth’. This article is from a month ago. No one is looking for you because you didn’t make it to the hospital alive. Your _Galra_ _mother_ identified your body. You were cremated. Your funeral was two weeks ago. It was quite the touching ceremony, you should have seen it.”

“It appears you have sent KK5738 into shock.”

“Maybe it won’t be quite so talkative anymore.”

  
  


DAY FORTY-FIVE

“I must admit I have been looking forward to this day since first setting eyes on Subject KK5738’s X-rays. Currently we are prepping the subject for surgery by cleaning the torso where the incisions will be made. I’ll be starting with a Y-incis-...pardon me. What is going on out there?”

“Everybody step back! Hands up where we can see them!”

“What in the -...who are you, and what do you think you’re doing in here? This is a high level security facility -”

“I am Commander Takashi Shirogane, and these are the Paladins of Voltron. Now drop the scalpel and step back away from our friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't even know how close I came to leaving it on Day 31. But I decided to be nice. You may thank me in the comments.


	31. Reluctant Bedrest/Found Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! The very last post of Whumptober, and the long-awaited sequel to Day 8! If you're brand new to this whump party and haven't read it yet, you'll want to go back and do so before diving into this monstrosity. And when I say monstrosity I mean, it's looooooong. I wanted to do it justice and give you guys the ending you deserve, which...I'm hoping I pulled off. I'm not used to posting stuff so soon after writing it, without re-reading and editing over a period of time! Anyway, it wasn't one that I could easily just say, oh and they rescued him and put him in a pod and they lived happily ever after, because there was a whole bunch of emotional stuff everyone had to deal with, too. Thus the length, and the postponing of this post so I could actually finish it.  
> That said, this is actually more angst than it is whump, but hopefully there's enough whump to satisfy and hopefully it's a satisfying way to end the month. Enjoy!

**Day 31 (No. 29 and Alt. 7) - Relu **ctant Bedrest/Found Family****

**Warnings:** fantastic racism, self-hatred, death mention, blood, referenced animal attack, fever, infection, hallucinations, needles, panic attacks, suicide ideation

It had been nearly a week since they abandoned Keith. Discarded him, like garbage. Dropped him off on some deserted planet like some people back on Earth used to drop off animals that they didn’t want to have to take care of. 

Shiro had always hated those people. Now he was one of them.

Except _worse_ , because this wasn’t a puppy they had dumped on the side of the road, this was a hu-...okay, well only _partly_ a human being, but a _person_ , nonetheless. The person that he had seen as the little brother he never had for the past several years that he had known him. The person that he had sworn, even if only internally, to look after, always.

And sure, it wasn’t like it was _his_ idea, but he had still let it happen. Yeah, if he had tried to fight it, Allura probably would have locked him in his room and done it without him. But he should have fought anyway. He should have let them drag him away like they had Keith that day they found out he was part Galra. Maybe they would have thrown him in a cell, too. Maybe then he’d actually be able to look at himself in the mirror now.

They wouldn’t have, though. He was human. He was _trustworthy._

So trustworthy that he had turned his back on his brother, all for the sake of Voltron and the universe. 

That was the lie he had been telling himself, the one thing that had kept him from jumping in his Lion and going after Keith for days. The universe needed Voltron. Therefore, the universe needed him. He was the leader of Voltron, he couldn’t just abandon the rest of the team and disobey the Princess’ orders for the sake of one man. Being a defender of the universe meant having to make sacrifices and hard choices.

And maybe all of that was actually true, but it was only half the story. _Keith_ needed him. As the leader of Voltron, he should be setting an example for the rest of the team to follow, and should be able to make decisions for the good of _every_ team member without being threatened and overruled by the Princess. Being a decent person who could live with his own choices meant not going against his own promises and ideals.

He knew all of that. But both sides seemed true, and which side seemed more important changed by the second. 

To top it all off, the team had practically fallen apart since leaving Borulmyte. Not only were they down a Paladin, unable to form Voltron, but hardly anyone was speaking to each other unless forced. Allura was sulking because her father’s Lion wouldn’t accept her. Hunk, who had never seemed all that happy with the idea of kicking Keith out, seemed depressed. Pidge had pretty much locked herself in her room, he assumed furiously searching for any sign of her family. Lance was, as always, hard to get a read on, but he was noticeably quiet and stoic whenever he happened to appear. Coran had barely spoken a word the whole week.

And Shiro? He couldn’t stand to be around any of them. _They_ were the ones who had done this to Keith. Sure, a couple had made weak arguments on his behalf at the beginning, but in the end they had all caved to Allura’s wishes and turned on him. He blamed them just as much as he blamed himself for sitting here in the comfort of the Castle while Keith...who even knew? At the very least he was alone and probably scared, even though he’d never admit that. At the worst, he could be struggling to survive, dying at that very moment, and none of them would ever know.

Whichever it was, he didn’t deserve it.

Coran had called a meeting on the bridge for something he said was urgent. It was probably another distress call, though the last one - the only mission they had attempted that week - had gone so terribly that Shiro wasn’t sure if they should even bother trying again. Running a smooth, successful mission is awfully difficult when no one wants to speak to each other, much less work in sync.

Usually he was the first one to arrive for meetings like this. Well, except for maybe Keith, but that wasn’t a thought he wanted to dwell on right then. This time, when he finally dragged himself to the bridge, the others were all already there, though none of them looked happy about it. Unlike in the past, when he always tried to keep up everyone’s morale by being focused and enthusiastic himself, no matter how he actually felt, now he didn’t bother. Crossing his arms, he let his face rest in exactly the scowl he was feeling.

“What is this about, Coran?”

“Yes, I would like to know as well.” Allura’s brow was furrowed, clearly not happy at being left out of the loop. 

The orange-haired adviser wrung his hands, staring down at the floor. “Well, it’s...this is difficult to say. But…” Drawing in a deep breath that puffed out his chest, he finally looked up, catching each of their gazes. “I’ve been keeping something from you. It’s about Number F-...Keith. It’s about Keith.”

Keith’s name had practically become forbidden, so of course it automatically caught everyone’s attention. Shiro unfolded his arms and stepped forward. “What about Keith?” he demanded.

Coran’s eyes darted back to the floor. “He gave us messages to pass on to each of you. Before we left Borulmyte.”

“ _Coran!_ ” Allura hissed.

“ _No,_ Princess.” The response took everyone in the room by surprise, including Allura if the expression on her face was any indication. None of them had ever heard Coran speak that way to her, especially not to tell her no. He took another breath and seemed to steel himself. “You know that I have always served the royal family willingly, and that I see you like a daughter. I would follow you anywhere. However...you are still young. A great burden has been placed on your shoulders, and you have done extraordinarily well with it. But sometimes you make mistakes, and this, my dear...this has been a grave mistake.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that we never should have left the boy behind. Galra or not, he has never proven himself anything but the most loyal of paladins, and yet we have punished him for a crime he did not commit.”

Shiro was torn between feeling relief that someone besides him was saying it, and anger that it hadn’t been said sooner. “Why didn’t you speak up when I was trying to convince them all of this same thing days ago?”

Coran flashed him a guilty expression. “Because I was too much of a coward. I didn’t want to speak against my Princess, even though I knew what she was doing was wrong.” Squaring his shoulders, he looked around at the other paladins again. “But regardless of what anyone else thinks or decides, I can do this. I can fulfill the boys’ last request before he was left behind.”

Something in Shiro’s gut twisted at that statement, and he could see some shuffling of feet and shifting of positions around him that pointed to the others feeling the same way. No one liked to be reminded of what they had done.

“Fine,” Allura finally spat. “Do what you must to clear your conscience.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the console with a huff.

“First to Number Two...Hunk.” Coran gave the Yellow Paladin a gentle smile. “He wanted you to know that he would miss your cooking, especially the brownies you made for him.”

That was all it took for Hunk to start crying, though he said nothing in reply.

“Lance, he said to tell you that he never hated you, that you annoyed him sometimes but were a good friend, too.”

If Shiro hadn’t been intently watching, he might have missed the way Lance’s eyes widened before he ducked his head and scuffed his sneaker into the floor.

“Pidge, your message was that he really, really hopes you find your family. And that he kept meaning to tell you he thinks you’re doing great with your bayard.”

Her eyebrows pulled in tight at the first part, but at the second she blinked as if surprised and looked away.

“And besides his message to the Red Lion that he would miss her, and to us, thanking us for the opportunity to fly her…” He turned to stare at Allura for that, and she couldn’t hold his gaze, either… “That leaves you, Shiro.”

The other messages had already left him ripped open, so he wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to handle one meant just for him.

Coran lips pursed into a sad smile. “‘Just tell him I love him.’”

He felt as if all the walls came crashing down on him all at once. He loved him. Of course he did, he _knew_ he did, they had always treated each other like brothers. But he had never said it. And now he had, and it was after Shiro had allowed him to be kicked out of the place they had all come to see as a home.

Spinning on his heel, he marched toward the door without a word.

“Shiro, wait, where are you going?”

If it had been any of the others, he might have just ignored them. But it was Hunk, so he at least threw the answer over his shoulder. “I’m going to get Keith.”

“Shiro -!”

“ _No!_ ” This time he whirled around, sending all of his fury in a glare toward Allura. “I’m _done_ letting you tell me how I should treat my little brother! I am going to get Keith, not the _Galra,_ but our _friend_ , the Red Paladin, the strongest and bravest and most loyal _person_ I know, and _no one_ is going to stop me! If you don’t want us back here, fine. I don’t care. Find yourself new Red _and_ Black Paladins. But I won’t leave him down there a second longer.”

It was unclear whether Allura even knew what to say to that, but before she had the chance Hunk piped up again. “I’m coming with you! Erm, if...that’s okay.”

Shiro spared him a small smile. “Of course it is.”

No one said anything as they left the room. Hunk jogged a little to catch up to Shiro’s long, quick strides before matching his pace. 

“I was a coward, too, like Coran said. Which, you know, isn’t really anything new, just...me being a coward isn’t usually at the expense of one of my friends. I was scared, to start with. Of him being, you know. Galra. But that’s stupid, really. Galra Keith is still Keith.”

“Yeah. He is.” He just hoped he was still Keith, still whole and well and not irrevocably changed, when they got to him. “I was just as much of a coward as anyone else, or more. I let the duty I felt to Voltron and the universe get in the way of the way I actually wanted to act. I should have gone after him right away.”

Hunk hummed in understanding. “Well, at least you actually stood up for him.”

They stopped off in their rooms to change into armor, then headed for Black and Yellow’s hangars. The long way, since they didn’t want to risk going back to the bridge and running into everyone else. Shiro had debated whether or not he should take Black, or just a pod, but decided that even if Allura wouldn’t let them stay, returning Black would give everyone a good chance to see Keith again and _really_ make sure they wouldn’t change their minds.

“Since we don’t have a wormhole, it’s gonna take us a while to get there,” he told Hunk over the comms once they were situated in their Lions and starting to take off.

_“I don’t mind. Just...how are we gonna find him once we’re there? I mean, he could have traveled a ways from where we...you know, left him.”_

_“I can track his quintessence.”_ The new voice took him by surprise, but not nearly as much as spinning around to find Green and Blue hovering over the Castle. _“But I’ll have to be pretty close_ _to him first. So we’ll still have to fly around for a while to try to catch a signal, then we’ll be able to narrow it down to a smaller area.”_

Shiro was too shocked by their appearance to come up with a reasonable response, so he just ended up echoing, “We?”

Lance’s solemn face popped up on a video screen in front of him, followed by another with Pidge’s. _“Yeah, we,”_ he said, mouth set in a firm line. _“We’ve been stupid, and we wanna fix it. If...if we can.”_

Clenching his jaw, Shiro sighed. “That’ll be up to Keith, I suppose. What kind of shape he’s in, and...whether he’ll forgive us.”

_“We don’t really deserve it,”_ Pidge mumbled.

“No, we don’t. But let’s go ask for it anyway.”

They talked a little as they flew. It was quiet, and a bit awkward, but it was more than they had talked all week. Lance admitted that he had been having doubts ever since they left, memories of time spent with Keith haunting his thoughts. The message had just sealed the deal.

Pidge shrugged when asked about her change of heart, and quietly conceded that she didn’t think she had ever really believed he was a bad guy. She was just hurting, and he had been the perfect target to take it out on. Her desperation to find her family had blinded her.

They were several hours into a trip that Hunk calculated would take a few days when a wormhole appeared in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere. Every Lion pulled up short, exclamations of surprise echoing across the comms. 

Shiro jerked his Lion around to find the Castle looming behind them. His immediate thought was that Coran had somehow taken over and caught up with them, but Coran couldn’t make wormholes.

“...Allura?”

Her voice over the comms was more tentative than he thought he had ever heard it. _“I have not yet decided to trust him. But I...I have seen how passionate all of you are about this, and I am...willing to reconsider my original stance.”_

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but it was more than he had expected. He’d take it. 

“Alright guys. Let’s go bring our boy home.”

The sight of the planet Borulmyte made Shiro’s stomach turn a flip. This was it. This was the place where Keith had been living for the past week. He couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for him. Allura and Pidge had done extensive research on multiple planets before deciding that this was the best one, and they had had plenty of “reassuring” things to say about it. He had always wondered, though, what they weren’t saying. Or what their research hadn’t turned up. There was no way that they could have known _everything_ there was to know about a planet just from reading about it. “Livable conditions” didn’t mean _enjoyable_ conditions.

_“Coran and I will stay here with the Castle. Keep us updated.”_

Shiro gave a nod. “Pidge, how close do you need to be to pick up Keith’s quintessence?”

_“Within a few miles.”_

“Alright. We’ll start at the drop off point. I’m gonna guess he would have headed east, into the forest, to find shelter.” That was the one reassurance he had about the whole situation, knowing that Keith was trained in survival skills. “We’ll head there first, and take it mile by mile.”

It took them the rest of the day. Only a fraction of that time had passed when Shiro started to run every possible horrible scenario through his mind of _why_ they weren’t finding it, even though he knew that they probably just hadn’t hit the right spot yet. 

_“There!”_ Pidge shouted. _“I’ve got it!”_

Relief flooded Shiro down to his toes. “Alright. Mark this location. We’ll have to go land in the desert and fly back in the Green Lion. She’s the only one small enough to fit in that little clearing over there. 

The little clearing, as it turned out, was around a creek that seemed to be clear and safe. His relief grew just a little more. If Keith had managed to end up this close to a water source, then maybe he was doing okay.

“Okay, Pidge. Lead the way.”

Hiking through the woods took almost another full day. A day in which the sun never actually rose. He hadn’t paid attention to start with, when they were still flying, because constant darkness outside had become the new norm, but now that they were on solid ground it was painfully obvious that they had yet to see light this entire time. And the temperature gauge on his helmet display was _mu_ _ch_ lower than he wanted it to be. Livable? Yes. Comfortable without armor? No. He wanted to interrogate Allura and Pidge on whether they knew about this when they had chosen to send Keith to this planet, but it wasn’t the time. He had to focus on finding Keith, nothing else.

After hours and hours of walking by only the flashlights built into their helmets, during which time no one, not even Lance, dared to complain, there was finally a spike on Pidge’s quintessence tracker. 

“Over here!” she shouted, taking off at a sprint through the underbrush. 

The others followed, swatting branches and bushes out of their way. Any second, Shiro expected to run into Keith. Maybe sitting in whatever hideout he had found, or out hunting for food in the never-ending darkness, his eyebrows flying up in surprise when he saw them all rushing in.

Instead, when he stumbled to a halt beside Pidge, she was staring at the ground, and there was no Keith in sight. 

“Pidge? What is it?”

Lifting a shaky finger, she pointed. Even before he looked, Shiro could feel his chest tightening with anxiety. And for good reason, too. The stain that was illuminated on the dirt and leaves was dried, at least a couple of days old, but it was undeniably blood. It was also concerningly large, and with the quintessence tracker crackling louder than they had heard it so far, there was no getting around the fact that it belonged to Keith.

Hunk immediately began babbling his worries, but Shiro’s heart was pounding too loudly in his ears for him to comprehend what he was actually saying. For a long moment he just stared at the bloodstain. It wasn’t until Lance stepped in closer to speak that he was broken out of his trance.

“Shiro? Do you think he’s…”

“No.” Yes. He didn’t know. It was a lot of blood. But he wouldn’t allow himself to believe that Keith was anything but okay until he saw him with his own eyes. “Pidge, is there a trail?”

She tore her eyes away to look at the screen, pacing back and forth a bit before nodding wordlessly and taking off through the bush. If her steps were a bit quicker now, no one blamed her. They just picked up their pace, too, solemn and silent other than Lance quietly updating Allura and Coran on what they had found. 

Every once in a while, a small patch of dark red on a leaf or tree trunk would catch Shiro’s eye. He tried to take it as a good sign. If Keith had been able to pick himself up from whatever had happened and trek through the woods, then maybe he wasn’t too bad off. At the time. Two or more days later? It was impossible to say.

The walk from there only took a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, _finally,_ he spotted a small cave over the top of Pidge’s head, just as the tracker grew in volume and Pidge broke into a run. 

“Keith? _Keith!_ ”

He was right on her heels, barreling through the opening, terrified of what he would find. And what he did see was almost exactly what he had feared - Keith, his skin far too pale under their flashlights, lying completely still on the ground next to the cold, charred remains of a campfire. There were rough slashes in his t-shirt, through which bloody scabs could be seen, and his right leg was almost entirely wrapped in large blue leaves tied off with what looked like dried grass. It didn’t take much guesswork to figure out that the sporadic dark stains on the leaves were blood.

“ _Keith._ ” Shiro was by his side without really knowing how he got there, sliding down onto his knees next to the unmoving figure. “No, no, no, no, _Keith,_ come on, don’t _do_ this to me.” He carded his hand through the messy black hair. “Keith, _please._ ”

Pale lips parted, and a groan spilled out. Shiro nearly fell over with relief. Somewhere behind him, Lance was exclaiming his own relief in Spanish, while Hunk hovered just over his shoulder. Keith’s forehead, which he now noticed was coated in a sheen of sweat, furrowed, and he turned his head slightly to face Shiro before squinting his eyes open.

“Go ‘way,” he rasped, taking all of them by surprise. “‘re not real.”

“Yeah, yeah we are, buddy.” He stroked his hair again, then yanked off his glove so he could lay his flesh hand against his cheek, trying not to wince at the heat that met his touch. A fever. Whatever that wound was on his leg, it had probably gotten infected. No wonder he didn’t think they were real. “Doesn’t this feel real?”

Keith seemed to consider this, his brain probably having to work twice as hard as usual to process anything. Finally there was what seemed to be acceptance in those glazed eyes, but instead of seeming happy or confused or surprised or any of the emotions that they might have expected, he simply let his head roll back to the side and closed his eyes. “Come to...finish me off?”

“What? Keith, _no_ , why would you think that?” Hunk exclaimed, dropping down right next to Shiro. “We came to take you _home._ ”

“We’ve, uh...we were really terrible to you. It was really, really wrong,” Lance joined in.

Pidge shuffled her feet awkwardly. “Yeah. We, um. We want you to come back.”

“Even Allura is willing to reconsider, but whatever she decides, we're getting you out of here.” Shiro took one of Keith’s hands in his own and squeezed. “I never should have let her dictate how you were treated to start with.”

Silence fell for a moment. Keith cut his eyes up toward Shiro, not moving his head. “Knew you weren’t real.”

Pidge gave an exasperated grunt. “ _Keith -_ ”

“Don’t worry about it right now.” Sliding his glove back on, Shiro straightened and got ready to pick Keith up bridal style. “He’s burning up with an infection. We’ll have to talk to him later, once he can actually comprehend what’s going on. For now let’s just get him back to the Castle and into a pod.”

Shiro scooped Keith up gently into his arms, causing him to cry out when his leg was jostled. “I’m sorry, bud,” he whispered. “You’re gonna be okay.” He didn’t at all like how light he felt, nor how gaunt his face looked. It had only been a week, but it didn’t seem like he had eaten much in that time.

Now that they knew where they were going, the walk back to the Green Lion went by quickly. Pidge flew them back to their own Lions, with Hunk and Lance towing Black to the Castle so that Shiro could stay in Green’s cargo hold with Keith. He didn’t want to let him go, couldn’t even keep his eyes off of him. He was too afraid that if he looked away, he would be gone, would succumb to his infection or perhaps just vanish into thin air. In the better lighting of the Lion, Keith looked all the more pale and feverish, his breaths coming shallow as he mumbled unintelligible words and occasionally whimpered with pain.

“What kind of injuries are we dealing with here, Number One?”

Shiro barely remembered arriving at the Castle and exiting the Green Lion, but there he was, standing next to Coran and a stretcher. Tenderly, he settled Keith down onto the padded surface. “Not sure. Maybe an animal attack of some kind? I haven’t been able to get a look at his wounds yet. He’s got a fever for sure, though, so they’re probably infected.”

Coran’s face turned grim. “That’s unfortunate. We won’t be able to put him into cryosleep until his temperature is back to normal.”

Gritting his teeth, Shiro found Keith’s hand and held it as they walked toward the infirmary. Poor kid just couldn’t catch a break. He didn’t deserve any of this. And now it sounded like when he was back to himself, they were going to have to go back through a whole three years’ worth of self-esteem boosting...maybe even more. He let out a long sigh. It seemed like he had _just_ finally convinced Keith that he was worth loving, that he was important, that not everyone in his life was going to abandon him. 

Then he sat back and let _everyone in his life_ abandon him.

Coran sucked in a loud breath through his teeth as he peeled back the crude leaf bandages. “Yes, this is most certainly infected. And I would say that your animal attack hypothesis is correct. These look mostly like tooth marks. Quite deep.”

It looked mostly like a mangled, bloody mess to Shiro. His stomach turned, not just from the smell of the infection, and he was glad that Hunk wasn’t there at the moment. “What do we need to do?”

“Well, I’ll need to clean these. You might want to hold him down for that part.”

Keith bucked and writhed under Shiro’s hands as Coran poured antiseptic over his leg, screaming in agony. Shiro was pretty sure his heart was permanently residing in his throat now. He whispered reassurances, hardly knowing what he was saying, well aware that Keith probably couldn’t hear or comprehend any of it. 

After a thorough cleaning, Coran wrapped the leg in clean bandages and pulled a thin sheet up over his waist. Shiro sank into the bedside chair, relieved beyond words that the worst part was over. They spoke very little as they went about the rest of the work that needed to be done, Coran handing Shiro the antiseptic and a clean cloth so that he could work on the claw marks across Keith’s chest, then focusing himself on preparing an IV bag of antibiotics and nutrients. Shiro gently smoothed adhesive bandages over the cuts when he was done. When he looked up, Coran was sliding the IV into place in the back of Keith’s hand.

“That should do it for now. I’m going to get a cool, wet cloth to help bring his fever down, but he should recover just fine.”

It was only then that Shiro finally allowed himself to dissolve into tears, like he had been wanting to ever since finding Keith in that cave. Burying his face in his hands, he let the tears soak his cheeks and the sobs wrack his body, uncaring for once that someone was there to see him fall apart.

A sturdy hand landed on his back, rubbing soothing circles. “There, there, lad. I know it’s been a rough few quintants, but it’ll be alright.”

“Will it?” Shiro scrubbed at his face with his flesh hand. “You should have seen him, Coran. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to trust any of us again.”

The adviser heaved a sigh. “I don’t know, either. I’m not sure if _I_ would be able to trust us, if the roles were reversed. But perhaps, with time, we’ll be able to prove to him that we do, indeed, care for him.”

Once Shiro had cried himself out, Coran convinced him to go change out of his armor and possibly get something to eat. He was surprised to find all three of the other paladins sprawled out on the floor just outside the infirmary, remnants of snacks scattered around them and expectant looks on their faces.

“Well? Is he...okay?” Pidge asked tentatively.

Shiro sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Physically, it seems so. He’s stable for now, at least, and Coran thinks he’ll be fine. We just have to make sure his fever doesn’t get too high.”

They all nodded slowly, seeming lost in thought. He imagined they were all thinking about the “other than physically” part that he had failed to comment on.

Hunk cleared his throat. “Is he awake?”

He shook his head. “He’s been in and out, but he’s resting pretty peacefully for now.”

“We didn’t want to, you know, be in the way,” Lance supplied. “But you can let us know when it’s okay for us to see him. Or we can take turns watching out for him.”

“Alright. I’ll let you know.” Right now he couldn’t imagine leaving his side, not for longer than he was doing right now. As he started down the hall again toward his quarters, he met another unexpected presence - Allura, lurking just around the corner from where the paladins sat, looking abnormally anxious. He stopped abruptly, not sure he was ready to see her again yet.

“I heard your update,” she stated after a moment of awkward silence. When Shiro said nothing in return, she pursed her lips. “I suppose we have some more discussions ahead of us now.”

“No. We don’t.” Allura’s eyebrows flew up in surprise, but he didn’t give her time to respond. “There’s nothing to discuss. Either you accept Keith back as the Red Paladin... _and_ treat him just as well as the other paladins, or he and I leave. Whether or not the others stay is up to them.” 

Allura’s brow furrowed, and she dropped her gaze to the floor with nothing else to say. Pushing past her, Shiro continued to his room, hurrying through changing so he could be back with Keith.

.o.0.O.0.o.

They would tell Keith later that he had been out of it for around two days before the fever broke. All he knew was that he woke up in the infirmary of the Castle with no memory of how he had gotten there, and assumed he must have been hallucinating again. He was actually a bit surprised that the wounds from that death beast hadn’t killed him yet...or maybe they had. Maybe this was some sort of purgatory or something, though the infirmary seemed like a strange choice.

It made a bit more sense when he turned his head to the right and saw Coran sitting there studying him. Seemed maybe he was going to have to face people he had failed in life before he could move on to whatever came next.

“Are you with us this time, my boy?”

Wrinkling his eyebrows at the strange question, Keith licked his dry lips with an equally dry tongue and tried to come up with something to say, but all that came out was a raspy, “What?”

Immediately Coran went into action, producing a hydration pack from somewhere nearby and holding the straw up to Keith’s lips. The cool liquid hit his throat like a slice of heaven, and he gulped greedily.

“Not too fast, now. Don’t want you making yourself sick.”

Keith nearly whined when the straw was pulled away, but he could already feel the liquid sloshing around inside of him, so it was probably for the best. Clearing his throat, he decided he could try talking again. “What am I doing here?”

“You were in pretty bad shape when the others found you. Something had torn your leg all up, and it had gotten infected. We couldn’t put you in a cryopod until your fever went down, which it seems it now has.”

His eyes darted around the cavernous white room. “So...this is real?”

The corner of Coran’s mouth tilted up. “Yes. It’s real.”

He had kinda suspected after the water. But that left one major question…“Why?”

Before Coran could respond, the door slid open, and Keith turned his head to see Shiro enter the room. The sight of his surrogate brother had him torn between happiness and a strange sense of dread, leaving him to clench the sheets in his fists and wait for some kind of reaction to come. Half of him expected it to be disgust, or anger, or maybe just an apathetic announcement of what his new punishment for existing was to be. 

Instead, Shiro’s face lit up with a happy, almost hopeful expression. “Keith?”

“Wait, is Keith awake?” another voice called from the hallway behind him. Lance’s head poked through the doorway, making Keith’s stomach clench, before he turned and yelled back down the hall. “Hey guys, Keith’s awake!”

All at once the infirmary was filled with almost all the people who hated him, all crowding around his bed and staring down at him with faces he couldn’t read. They were going to hurt him. He knew they would, why else would they have brought him back here? Obviously they had changed their minds and decided they had been too lenient. What were they going to do to him? How much pain would he be in now?

He couldn’t breathe. Suddenly it felt like that beast was sitting on top of him again, crushing his chest, and he struggled to draw in air through an open mouth while tears stung his eyes. His hands shook where they were still gripping the sheets. People were talking, but it sounded as if his ears were stuffed full of cotton and he couldn’t make out any of the words.

He almost didn’t notice when the crowd above him dispersed, but it did help his breaths start to come a little easier. Only there was still Shiro, and he still didn’t know where Shiro stood on any of this. The Black Paladin sat down next to the bed and tried to grasp his hand. Keith yanked it away.

“Don’t...don’t.”

“Okay. I won’t touch you. Do you know where you are?”

Of _course_ he knew, that was the whole problem. “Yes.”

“Okay. You’re safe now, Keith.”

_Safe._ Yeah, right. There was no such thing as safe, not anymore. He had thought the Castle was safe, that these people were safe, but he had been wrong. “Why?”

Shiro looked at him in mild confusion before choosing what to say. “We made a mistake, leaving you there. We -”

Keith rolled away, tucking his hands up next to his chest, cringing at the pain that still radiated through his leg. He didn’t want to hear it explained, how they wanted to punish him further. Yet at the same time, he needed to know what was coming. 

“Keith…”

“Now?”

It had been a long time since Shiro had needed to interpret his one word sentences, but luckily it seemed he was still good at it. “Now you keep resting and getting better until we can put you in a pod for your leg.”

“Why?”

That one seemed to give him pause. “So...you’ll be well.”

Were they really going to prolong the torture like this? Make him get well before they did away with him? He curled up tighter. “Just...kill. Now.”

“ _Kill?_ Keith -”

“ _Please._ ”

The chair scraped across the floor, and Keith flinched. Footsteps came around the bed. He tensed, waiting for the blow. The air in front of his face stirred, and Shiro’s voice came from very close.

“Keith, can you look at me, please?” When he didn’t comply, Shiro put a hand on his fists and pulled them down so that they were face to face. “No one is going to kill you. No one is going to _hurt_ you. You’re back on the Castle because we were _wrong._ They were wrong about you being untrustworthy, and I was wrong about my duty to Voltron being more important than my duty to you. I’m so, so sorry that I let them kick you out, and that I didn’t come after you sooner. You will _always_ be more important to me than the rest of the universe. You’re my brother. I _love_ you.”

Tears welled up in Keith’s eyes despite his reluctance to believe any of it. Tugging his hands out from under Shiro’s, he covered his face again, unable to respond.

Shiro let out a long, quiet sigh. “The others want to apologize, too, at some point. But for now you should try to get some more rest. You’re still recovering from the infection.”

He didn’t _want_ to sleep. He didn’t trust that he wouldn’t be messed with while he was asleep. But his body decided for him that it was ready, drifting off without his permission.

.o.0.O.0.o.

Keith hadn’t really improved by the next couple of days. He slept some, he ate some, and his color and temperature seemed to be returning to normal. But he regarded everyone who came into the room with the wary stare of a cornered wild animal, and he still wasn’t speaking more than one or two words at a time, if that. Just as Shiro had feared, he had reverted back to the year that they had met, except worse. 

He tried to spend as much time in the infirmary with him as he could, hoping that the company would eventually coax him into relaxing. The other paladins still hadn’t gotten their chance to talk to him. Everyone, including Shiro, was afraid their presence would trigger another panic attack. He had already nearly gone into one when Hunk had delivered his breakfast that morning, and had been extra jumpy around Coran, too.

Shiro was eating his own breakfast, trying not to focus too much on the fact that Keith’s was just sitting there untouched, when he heard a telltale sniffle. Keith was sitting up, propped on some pillows against the wall, but his head was turned away from Shiro, as was pretty common. Even so, he could see the shimmer of a tear as it streaked down his face. Setting aside his bowl, he rounded the bed and settled down on the edge, expecting the flinch that followed but still hating it.

“Talk to me, Keith.”

He didn’t expect a response at all, and especially not a long one. But Keith angrily dashed the tears away, forever hating himself for ever crying, and spoke in a hoarse whisper. “Why didn’t you just leave me there?”

Shiro’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“I was almost _dead_ . It would have all been _over_. You should have just left me there.”

Heart aching, he scooted in closer, though Keith leaned even further back away from him. “Keith, _no_ . We don’t want you dead. We want you _here,_ alive and well, with us. If you died, I...I _thought_ you were dead, when I first saw you. And it was like...it was like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I don’t know if I could survive it.”

Keith’s face, passive up until then, creased with a look of emotional pain that Shiro could hardly stand. “But why should I live? I’m...I’m _Galra,_ Shiro. I’m one of _them._ But not even really Galra, just some cross-breed freak of nature. I never should have existed. Maybe that’s why my mother walked out on me, she knew I was a freak and she couldn’t stand to -”

“Stop it. Keith, stop.” He grabbed his shoulder and shook it, not caring at the moment whether it startled him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not defined by who your parents or grandparents or anyone else were. You are you. You are Keith Kogane, Red Paladin of Voltron, best pilot at the Galaxy Garrison. You’re a survivor. You’re a fighter. Not because you have Galra blood, but because the universe has thrown every hard thing that it could think of at you and you’re still standing strong.”

“I’m _not_ standing strong, don’t you see me?” Keith met his eyes finally, a tiny bit of his old spark of anger visible. “I’m _pathetic._ Maybe I was the Red Paladin, maybe I was a survivor and a fighter, but right now I don’t think I can be any of those things. I don’t want to fight anymore, Shiro. I’m _tired_ of surviving. I just want…” He broke down into tears again, covering his face with his hands.

Moving over closer, Shiro wrapped his arms around his brother and pulled him in tight. “You want what?”

Keith’s shoulders shuddered beneath him. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t trust any of them. I _can’t_ trust any of them.”

“I know.” 

For a long time, they sat together like that, Keith’s face buried in Shiro’s chest while he cried out all his tears. Shiro ran his fingers through his hair, trying desperately to come with _anything_ he could say to comfort him. 

“Do you think you could listen to them, if they come and talk to you? Just one at a time, not everyone at once. I know they’re really anxious to speak to you, and I think it might do you some good, too.” Or at least he hoped.

It took him a minute to answer. “I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well, it doesn’t have to be now. But I’d like you to consider it.”

Keith just nodded.

.o.0.O.0.o.

He had been in bed for days. The infection was all but gone, there was no longer any danger in putting him in a pod, and doing so had been brought up a couple of times. But Shiro and Coran must have noticed how he shrank into himself every time it was mentioned, because they dropped the subject and just continued to let him stay there. 

He didn’t want to go in a pod. Being forced unconscious for who knew how many hours or days was just too _vulnerable_ , and he already felt that way far too much, anyway. After all, he was stuck in bed in the middle of a ship full of people who hated him. He was pretty confident that Shiro would try his best to protect him, and Coran might, too. The Altean had taken the time to sit down and apologize to him for his role in the whole mess, and based on the way he had been treating him Keith was fairly sure he could be trusted. 

But that left four others, all who had weapons, one of whom had some kind of weird magic and was literally connected to the Castle. He didn’t feel safe, and he _hated_ it. There hadn’t been many places in his life that he had been able to truly let down his guard and feel safe. A foster home or two, though later on he had become so jaded that even the good ones didn’t feel like they would last. The Garrison to some extent, at least as long as Shiro was there.

And the Castle. Yeah, there was always the chance of an attack, and there had been the couple of times that someone had snuck on board without them knowing. But in all of those situations he had known that there were people around who had his back, people that he could count on. It was the most at home he had felt since Shiro had left for Kerberos.

Now it was those very same people that he was afraid of, as stupid and weak as that made him. The thought was almost laughable. Him? Afraid of Lance, Hunk, and Pidge? But he couldn’t get the hatred he had seen in some of their eyes out of his head. Couldn’t forget the venom in their voices. Couldn’t erase all the times he had watched them, hallucinations or not, show up in that cave with insults on their lips and weapons in their hands, ready to make him pay for the crime of being part Galra.

He didn’t want to talk to them. But he knew that Shiro really wanted him to, and that meant he would have to do it sooner or later. Maybe if he went ahead and got it over with, they’d leave him alone more, and then when his leg was healed enough that he could actually walk it’d be easier to leave. He hadn’t figured out where he was going - definitely not back to Borulmyte - or how he’d get there, but leaving was the best option for everybody.

“Will you...stay? If I let them…”

Once again, Shiro knew exactly what he was talking about, despite the question being out of the blue. “Of course. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

Sinking back into the pillows, Keith hugged himself. “Okay.”

Shiro smiled softly. “Okay. I’ll send them a message and let them know you’re ready.”

Hunk was the first to come in. He burst into tears pretty much as soon as he walked through the door and saw Keith, and cried so much the whole time that his many, many apologies could barely be understood. It made Keith uncomfortable, if he was honest. He had never known how to deal with tears, his own or anyone else’s. But Hunk was so obviously genuine and straightforward, and he had always had a hard time believing that there was any part of such a loving person that could have held such malice. 

“I get it.” It took everything in him to force multiple words out, but he knew he had to this time. “It’s hard to...stand up. When...everyone else...disagrees. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay, it’s so not okay!” Hunk blubbered. “I don’t know if it would have done any good for me to say anything or not, but I still should have done it.”

Keith nodded. “Okay. You’re right. It wasn’t okay. But…” He took a deep breath. “I forgive you.”

The way Hunk’s face lit up was totally worth the difficulty of saying the words. “Really, man? Thank you. Like, really, thank you, you don’t know how happy that makes me. I know we’ve never been, like, the best of friends, but I’ve always really wanted to get to know you better, I mean if you’d be okay with that, it’s totally up to you, but maybe sometime when you’re feeling better we can like, hang out? Also I know you haven’t been eating much right now but I am definitely making you brownies when you feel up to eating them. Like, a ton of brownies. All the brownies I can possibly make. Hey, maybe you could _help_ me make the brownies! Cooking is such a good way to bond, I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it before! What do you think, does that sound okay? Or I mean, if you really don’t want to hang out with me at all, I totally understand that, too, I just -”

“Hunk.” Keith’s lips twitched upward slightly as the breathless Yellow Paladin finally screeched to a halt. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Hunk beamed. “Great! Okay, I’m gonna like, go, and let somebody else come in here, ‘cause, yeah. Feel better, Keith!”

When the room was empty again, Shiro leaned over and squeezed his hand. “How do you feel?”

“Good.” He was surprised to find it was actually pretty true. A small burden had been lifted from his chest.

“Good. You ready for Lance or Pidge?”  
  


Keith’s heart started beating double time again. “Lance.” Even though he had been more active in the process of his condemnation, Pidge’s response had hurt the worst.

The boy that came into the infirmary wasn’t the Lance that Keith knew. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off the floor, or his hands, or anything but Keith and Shiro, and when he spoke his voice was so soft it was barely audible. 

“I don’t know why I did it.” He picked at a loose thread on his jeans. “I just get...so emotional, so caught up in the moment sometimes...I’m really just as much of a hothead as you are.”

If his demeanor and apology hadn’t caught Keith’s attention, that statement did. Lance, admitting he was as bad as Keith at something? “Thought that was because...I’m _Galra._ ”

Lance’s face pinched. “Yeah. I said some pretty stupid things. I mean…” He shrugged. “Who knows, maybe it _is_ because you’re Galra. But still, it’s...you’re just you. And that’s okay. Maybe we don’t always get along, but I don’t _really_ think you’re evil. I mean, I guess I _kinda_ thought you could be. It was stupid, though. I’m an idiot, that’s what I’m getting at. There’s no real explanation, just...I’m sorry, like I said.”

Part of Keith wanted to accept that. Part of him didn’t think he could. “I...thanks. For apologizing. I think...maybe I can forgive you...soon? Maybe not yet. But, yeah. Soon.”

Lance nodded. “That’s fair. I didn’t really expect you to, like, at all, so…” He finally flicked his eyes up to meet Keith’s. “I think you and I could use to work on some things, anyway. Like, you know, not acting like we hate each other. Because I don’t. Hate you, that is. And I’m...pretty sure based on what Coran said that you don’t hate me, either.”

“No. I don’t. And yeah, that...that sounds good.”

“Okay. Good.” A brief smile flashed over his face, then he nodded again and excused himself.

“You still doing okay?”

Keith pressed his lips together. “Think so. I’m nervous, though. About Pidge.”

Shiro smiled sympathetically. “I know. Just give her a chance, ‘kay?”

Pidge shuffled into the room in a very similar fashion to Lance, eyes on the floor. She perched on the very edge of the chair that each paladin had occupied, kicking her feet back and forth since they didn’t quite touch the floor. In a low voice, she said her apology and explained that she had let her hurt over her family get the best of her, but insisted that it didn’t excuse her blaming him. 

It took a moment longer than the others for him to find his words. “I remember what it was like...missing somebody. Believing that they were still out there, but not knowing for sure. I mean, it wasn’t my actual _family_ ...unless you count my mom, which...at least I knew she _chose_ to leave. So, she’s...probably fine.” Just didn’t want him. “But Shiro is the closest thing I’ve had to family since...since my Pops. And it’s hard. I mean, I kinda went ballistic, broke into a commanding officer’s office, punched a bunch of other officers, and got kicked out of the Garrison.”

“You _what?_ ” Shiro broke in, sitting forward, then realized his interruption and sat back, waving a hand. “Never mind. Sorry. We’ll talk later.”

Pidge snickered a little, and Keith took that as encouragement to continue. “But, yeah. I know how hard it is, and I would never, _never_ wish that on someone else.”

Her head popped up, eyes wide and wet behind her glasses. “I know you wouldn’t. I know...I _know_ you didn’t have anything to do with it, I _never_ should have said something like that. You...you’re right, you understand probably more than anyone else, and I…” She trailed off, ducking her head as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Once again, there was someone crying in front of him, and he didn’t know what to do. But he was pretty sure what any of the other paladins would have offered in this situation, so… “Do you, um...need a...hug?”

The next thing he knew he had an armful of Pidge, curled up on the bed next to him and leaving tears and snot all over his shirt. He patted her back awkwardly. “You’ll find them. I know you will.”

“Why are _you_ comforting _me?_ I’m supposed to be in here helping _you_ to feel better, this is not how this is supposed to work!”

Keith frowned. “Um...sorry?”

Pidge glared at him, not at all intimidating with her sopping wet face. “ _No,_ don’t _apologize,_ that’s my job, too!” 

“Sorry!”

She punched him in the ribs. “You’re a good hugger. Why are you such a good hugger.”

Keith was just getting more confused the longer this conversation went on. “I...don’t know? It certainly isn’t from practice.”

Tilting her head back, she narrowed her eyes at him as if she could see into his mind. “Do you not like hugs?”

“No, I...do.”

“Then I’m gonna hug you. Every day. From now on.”

“Aw, can I get Keith hugs every day, too?” 

Keith startled a little bit when he realized that Hunk and Lance had returned to the room, but forced himself to relax. This was okay. They weren’t going to hurt him. They had all been very open with him, and even though it was going to take some time, he thought he could learn to trust them again.

“I...guess?”

“Yay!” Hunk settled onto the end of the bed, and Lance took the now empty chair, folding his long legs up into it. Shiro scooted forward again to be in Keith’s line of vision.

“How are you feeling now? Think maybe you can keep surviving a little longer?”

He felt Pidge tense in his arms, and Hunk’s face froze while Lance’s went carefully blank. Keith swallowed. “Yeah. I think...maybe I’m ready for that pod now. So I can finally get out of this bed and...I don’t know, kinda figure this out all over again.”

Shiro ruffled his hair fondly. “I’m glad. We’ll all be there with you for every step, okay?”

There was one more question, though. “What about Allura?”

Shiro’s face darkened slightly. “I’ve already told her she can either treat you the same as everyone else, or we’re leaving.”

“Nah, we won’t leave,” Pidge piped up. “There’s more of us than there are of her now. We’ll just stage a mutiny.”

Keith laughed awkwardly. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“I don’t think so, either, because I think she’ll come around,” Lance said. “But the point is, Mullet...we’re gonna support you.”

“You’re part of the Space Family now, dude!” Hunk cheered.

“Exactly,” Shiro smiled. “And Space Family has to stick together.”

The others kept chattering quietly, someone throwing in something about _“ohana”_ in a weird voice, which triggered a whole conversation about some movie that he didn’t care about keeping up with. Closing his eyes, Keith let his body truly relax for the first time since before going to the Blade. 

  
And he felt _safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who joined me this month!!! This was my first ever Tumblr writing challenge, and it was a blast. You guys are what made it so much fun, with all the comments, especially! I know I've thanked all of you individually, but another huge group thank you to all the commenters! 
> 
> Make sure if you want more Keith whump from me sometime in the future to follow the series "In which I whump Keith"...and if you haven't read Abyss yet (my first Keith whump fic!), you should check it out! You can also come check out my Tumblr (actress4Him), where I'll be posting updates about what I'm writing next.
> 
> You can also buy me a coffee! https://www.buymeacoffee.com/actress4Him
> 
> Happy Halloween and Happy Whumping!


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